Department Store (9 page)

“Mister Chisholm wanted to see me as soon as I arrived.”

“Yes, he left me a note, take a seat please he won’t be long, Amy isn’t it? Amy Brown?”

I nodded and we both smiled at each other before I took a seat on the other side of the outer office. I’d already reported in to my supervisor, Miss Jones, and she had sent me straight here. It was about a half an hour before the shop opened and everyone was busy. I knew the routine, at the moment Mister Chisholm would be holding the normal morning security meeting with the head of security, the monitoring room supervisor and the head of the floor walkers; the store detectives. Panic gripped me for an instant as I envisioned them reviewing and laughing at the tapes recorded of me on Sunday, while my pile of discarded clothes lay in the corner of his office.

I calmed down, he’d said he’d pull the tapes and all I could do was hope that was the case. The door to the inner office opened and the three men walked out. Two of them nodding to me in passing, it was a large store but not that large. The third one, the camera supervisor, gave me a casual inspection and then his eyes locked on my hem line. With a start I realised the tops of my stockings were just peeking under the edge of the skirt where I’d crossed my legs. He chuckled and walked on. Flustered, I uncrossed my legs and smoothed the skirt, only to realise Felicity was watching me with a smile on her face.

“Sorry?”

“You can go in now. Mister Chisholm will see you now.”

“Oh, thank you.”

Quickly rising to my feet, I moved over to the open door and hesitated over knocking or not. He spoke before I reached a decision.

“Come in, Amy.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Close the door.”

I did as I was told and then moved to stand in front of his desk. This time he didn’t gesture to a seat.

“I’ve just been reviewing the security tapes form the weekend with my camera supervisor. Very interesting.”

My mouth dropped open and I froze with shock.

* * * *

Watching her reaction it was all I could do not to giggle.

“Yes, very interesting indeed. Apparently the entire system malfunctioned on Sunday, not a single recording survived. Isn’t that a pity. We could have got up to all sort of mischief couldn’t we?”

I watched her shoulders sag in relief, savouring the mental torture I’d just inflicted on the young blonde.

“Are you wearing the stockings and garters as instructed?”

“Yes, master.”

“Show me.”

She swallowed and then reached slowly down to grasp her hem. There was no hesitation in her movements, more a measured slowness that she knew was titillating, teasing even. In less than twenty-four hours this young woman had come a long way, a very long way. She straightened now, lifting the uniform skirt up, revealing a long expanse of stocking clad legs. Finally she was upright, merely the lower edge of the bands at the tops of her nylons showing. She knew this wasn’t enough, that I would want to see flesh, so she began to gather the heavy skirt material in her fingers, inching the lower edge ever higher. Eventually the top of the stockings came into view, quickly followed by the bare flesh of her upper thighs framed enticingly by the tiny garter straps. I waved her to stop.

“Are you wearing panties, Amy?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What did I tell you about sluts and slaves not wearing panties?

“Yes, sir . . .”

I could see the desperation in her face as she realised she’d overstepped a mark, knowing she should only answer questions not ask them, at least not without asking permission first. Clever girl this one, I hadn’t even taught her that.

“Just this once, Amy.”

“Sir, it’s against dress regulations to go commando. I’d be in trouble if I was found out.”

“Hmmm . . . let me see, which do you fear worse then, Amy? A reprimand from Miss Jones or a punishment from me? I see I will have to punish you just to show you the error of your ways.”

She looked stricken but like the little trouper she was she didn’t drop the skirt hem, just stood there showing off her legs to me.

“Never mind, given you will spend the lunch hour with Felicity, helping you try on your dress for tonight and selecting your make-up, I suspect it wouldn’t be a very good idea for you to go commando.”

I looked at her.

“Show me them then.”

She quickly lifted the skirt up to her waist, her elbows sticking out like handles as her silky black panties came into view. Not only that but she had remembered to wear them over and not under the garters, allowing them to be removed with ease should the occasion warrant it. I made a circling motion with my fingers and she obediently turned through three hundred and sixty degrees showing me a delightful view of her panties from every direction.

“Drop the skirt and come here.”

I pointed to a spot right next to my chair. She was there in seconds, having moved this time with much more speed, smoothing her skirt down into place as she literally skipped around the desk.

Without preamble or warning my hand rose up inside her skirt, brushed across her thighs and my fingertips touched her pussy through the silky fabric. As I suspected she was already wet, and she blushed in recognition as I removed my hand and looked at her.

“You may go now, Amy. I expect you to work a full shift today. Felicity will collect you from your position at lunch when she is ready. Miss Jones has been informed. That is all.”

She moved toward the door but just before she reached it,

“Amy?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Ask Felicity to lend you her vaginal deodorant and spray it up under your skirt in front of her desk please. Then ask her to come in, I have some letters to dictate.”

 
It was very satisfying to see her blush deepen as I gave her these instructions. I of course knew from the monitor that Felicity was on her own, but as Amy opened the door she did not. The camera had no sound pick up but I saw her walk straight up to Felicity’s desk and ask her for something without hesitating. Felicity looked up at her and smiled at the blonde and then winked. She handed over a small aerosol and without stopping Amy bent over and sprayed a liberal dose up under her skirt, bringing another wink from Felicity. Switching to the camera behind Felicity, I could see Amy smile back and then apparently say ‘thank you’, followed by ‘see you later’. I had been right, this one was a real find, a true submissive.

I was desperately curious to find out how she had gotten on with her husband last night but that was going to be the hub of the conversation over dinner. I’d had Felicity check the outside cameras and she had seen Amy’s husband drop her off this morning as usual, so they were at least still under the same roof. Which was of course a relief, I wanted my fun with this little sex bomb but I didn’t want to destroy her life. Mind you, one way or another, I was going to have my fun.

Monday had flown past in a daze. The morning had gone as normal until around eleven o’clock I’d remembered the soiled panties Mister Chisholm had hidden somewhere near my work place. I was in an absolute panic all through to lunch, frantic that someone else, especially a customer, might find them. It was difficult to scour the shelves with other staff and customers around but I’d gone through my part of the department twice without finding them or alerting anyone else to the search. Just as I saw Felicity walking toward my counter I had to stifle a giggle as a possible scenario ran through my mind.

“Are you looking for something, Amy?”

“Yes, Miss Jones.”

“What, Amy?”

“My knickers, Miss Jones.”

“Do you mean these, Amy?”

She stood there dangling the disgusting item from her fingertip in distain.

I shook my head to clear the latent image and smiled as Felicity walked up.

“You ready?”

“Yes she is. Off you go, Amy. It’s fine. You two go and have fun, I didn’t even know you knew each other.”

Miss Jones breezed past, not even stopping as her comment was thrown my way. Taking the chance I stepped out from behind the counter and was surprised when Felicity led me across to the back stairs rather than in the other direction toward the ladies wear department. She answered my unspoken question as we clattered down the stairs in our low heels. As per Mister Chisholm’s instructions my new very high heels were stashed in my locker.

“It’s alright, Amy, Charles wants you to look stunning tonight and he doesn’t want too many prying eyes around the store noticing what’s going on. We’re going to a small boutique two blocks up. The owner is a friend of Charles’ and very accommodating. Don’t worry, sweetie, I know all about it.”

“You do?”

“Of course. You don’t think you are the first one he’s played with do you? After all he is single, handsome, virile and very wealthy.”

“Have you . . .?”

The question was out before I could think about it, I really thought I’d put my foot in it but she gave a cheerful peal of laughter.

“Honey, that’s for me to know and you to guess at.”

“I’m sorry it just sort of. . . slipped out.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

A gust of wind blew from her to me as we stepped out through the employee entrance. As it did I could smell the same faint scent of the vaginal deodorant she had lent to me earlier. I knew my own answer to that question now, without her telling me.

The shop Felicity led me into was a top end boutique, one I’d never have dared to enter on my own. She whispered to me as we entered.

“Don’t worry, it’s all charged to Mister Chisholm’s account. You haven’t got to fork out for the dress,” she giggled softly, “or the underwear.”

“Felicity! How nice to see you.”

The matronly older woman rushed up and planted a kiss on each of her cheeks and then turned to me.

“And this must be the delightful Amy. Even under that frumpy uniform I can see she must be absolutely delicious.”

She then proceeded to bus me in exactly the same way much to my surprise.

“Amy, this is Melinda. She owns this shop and between us we are going to outfit you perfectly, aren’t we Melinda?”

There was a steel edge to her voice that conveyed an unspoken message.
You need to deliver on this one, sweetie, or Mister Chisholm will not be happy
. Melinda nodded, suddenly all business, she’d got the message.

“Right, Amy, into the fitting room please and let’s get this frumpy stuff off you so I can measure you. All of it, honey, all of it. I bet that bra you are wearing isn’t well fitted. Not for one of my dresses it isn’t. That’s if you need a bra at all.”

As she was speaking she clicked the lock on the shop door and flicked the sign to closed. Obviously Mister Chisholm’s chosen got the very best service here.

It was very odd removing my uniform in front of the two women, Melinda standing there tapping her hand on her thigh impatiently, her other hand absently twirling the tape measure.

Once down to my black bra and panties I hesitated. Felicity solved that by stepping in and flicking the catch at the back open. Then she merely reached down, took hold of the sides of my panties and stripped them down my legs without even asking. With no other options open to me I completed the denouement and stood there as Melinda approached with her tap measure and little note pad.

I remembered being measured for my wedding dress three years earlier, which had taken a long time. Melinda took at least three times as many measurements in about a fifth of the time, Miss Efficiency at work, an expert at her job.

“Right, now to find the dress, although I’ll have to alter it. Black I assume for a natural blonde?”

With that she bustled out of the room, leaving me alone with Felicity who had perched herself on the only chair.

“You may as well lose the stockings and garter as well, Amy. You’ll be leaving here with much better ones that that.”

She smiled and returned her attention to her magazine. Dispiritedly I completed the process and stood there nude, wondering how long it would be before Melinda returned. It wasn’t long, thankfully, before she came bustling back in, carrying some very expensive looking black underwear.

“Here you are, love, let me help you into these.”

“I’ll help her, Mel. You sort out the dress, we are tight for time today.”

“Oh. . . okay.”

She sounded somewhat disappointed. Felicity leaned in to whisper as Melinda bustled back out again.

“Its okay, Amy. We’re not pressed for time at all but I’m not gay like she is, well maybe bi. She was going to cop a feel while she could.”

She giggled and it was infectious, so within seconds the two of us were laughing like school girls as I tried to hold still to allow her to fasten the strapless black silk bra around me. The bra looked slightly odd until it was on and then it made sense, it fit like a glove. The support portion of the cups was thicker than the upper sections, which were thin and filmy, translucent rather than transparent. The scarlet lace trim around the edges of the garment accented the contrast with my pale skin. I have to say it looked fabulous. Felicity caught my look of wonder.

“Mel’s cut the price tags off already so don’t ask. I’ll tell you on the way back to work. You don’t want to have a heart attack, hon.”

She knelt down in front of me and then reached up to fasten the garter belt around my waist. I realised with a start her face was only a couple of inches from my slit.

“Your pussy is very pretty. It’s a pity I’m not gay.”

She giggled but this time I merely swallowed hard, thoughts flashing through my mind of a lurid type I’d never had before, reinforced by the details I’d been given about tomorrow evening and the idea of lap dancing for another woman.

This garter belt was a lot nicer than the one I’d removed. It matched the bra perfectly and the garters hung down from wide panels of black silk. It felt so comfortable it was unreal. The next item to go on was the silk French knickers, which Felicity drew up my legs after I’d stepped into them. These were tight in all the right places but the elastic didn’t dig in at the waist.

“You’d better fish the garters through for yourself sweetie, don’t want you to think I’m making advances.”

I realised the garters had rolled up inside the sides of the knickers and bent over to reach up and pull them out one by one. As I bent over I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, the effect the bra had on my cleavage was stunning. I looked at least one if not two sizes bigger than I had before. Standing straight, I checked the view in the mirror from several angles. The black silk and narrow red lace trim set off my pale skin and blonde hair perfectly. Even without a dress I looked a million dollars!

I could still hear Melinda moving around in the shop proper so guessed I still had a minute or so at least.

“Felicity?”

“Yes, sweetie?”

“Can I ask you something?”

She smiled, and put down the magazine she’d just picked up again.

“Of course.”

“Mister Chisholm . . . well. . .”

The words wouldn’t form and I gestured helplessly down at my underwear. She grinned.

“He told you his slaves weren’t supposed to wear underwear when under his control.”

I nodded, a flush of embarrassment spreading quickly over my face.

“Don’t worry, sweetie, he gave me very specific instructions on how you were to be dressed tonight and you are following them to the letter. I think he will be very happy with the result.”

“Oh.”

At that moment Melinda hurried back into the room carrying a couple of black dresses over her arm and a box containing several packets of stockings.

“Come on. Let’s get you to try this one.”

The first dress she held out was a straightforward black mini sheathe style dress. Spaghetti straps over the shoulders, severely straight cut, very classic, very elegant and extremely short. Before Melinda could take it off the hanger Felicity spoke up.

“That’s nice Mel, but not what Charles had in mind for tonight. I think you are right as ever she would look stunning in it but it would have to be bare legged to be classy and tonight she must be wearing stockings. That would look tarty with them.”

“Of course.”

The next dress she held up reminded me immediately of my prom dress from high school, although that had been red. The cut was asymmetric, one shoulder bare, the other quarter sleeved, the hem line below the knee on one side, mid thigh on the other. There the similarity ended. This dress had two layers; the topmost lace layer was thin and transparent while the bottom layer was opaque. Both sides of both layers of the dress were also slit quite high and the outer one fastened together with diamante clips, having a similar effect at the bodice. When she took the dress off the hanger I realised the two parts were entirely separate, not even clipping together.

I had a little epiphany at that moment. I now knew why Mister Chisholm wanted me in such sexy underwear. If I wore this dress, at some point during the evening, he would tell me to remove the opaque layer, leaving the underwear exposed through the lace covering. I shivered at the thought of such exhibitionism; even my wildest fantasies hadn’t included such public displays. Unbidden, my breath quickened and I realised both Melinda and Felicity were watching me, obviously my thoughts were an open book on my face.

“I think you are right Felicity, she knows what he wants too. This is the one for sure.”

She slipped the inner layer over my head, tugged and wriggled it down. It was tight in all the right places and had only a couple of Velcro tabs at the waist to allow it to be drawn over my body. I noticed the shoulders had Velcro too; obviously it would be possible to remove this layer by undoing them and pulling it down without removing the outer layer. I was now certain he would be telling me to do just that. Then another thought hit me, what if he simply told me to allow someone else to do it for me. I gasped.

“What’s wrong, sweetie? It’s not too tight it is?”

“No, it’s fine.”

I was blushing even redder now, unable to stop the reflexive way the blood ran to my face, something that had been happening a lot lately.

“She does look divine, doesn’t she Felicity, when she blushes? It really enhances her features.”

She stood back up and took the outer layer from the other woman, allowing Felicity to return to her chair. Finally the dress was exactly as she wanted it and she stepped back to allow me to look in the mirror.

I was astonished. I knew the dress was gorgeous but I hadn’t expected to find it made me look quite so good. With my hair straight down my back it was stunning. Felicity came up behind me and taking my long blonde tresses piled them on top of my head as if pinned there. She allowed two little bangs to hang down, one on either side of my face, framing it. Even without much makeup, the department store didn’t allow their employees to wear very much, the effect was stunning.

“We’ll have to prevail on Cecilia to let you spend some time in the hairdressers this afternoon. I think that style would look just perfect on you, sweetie.”

“Oh. . . I agree. She looks absolutely gorgeous, good enough to eat!”

Melinda made the last comment entire unselfconsciously; the double entendre entirely deliberate.

“Now hurry up, dear, so I can pack that dress. You need to get your work outfit back on.”

Melinda sneered at the frumpy uniform and waited impatiently for the dress. When I handed it to her she left the room. Felicity leaned close and whispered to me.

“Don’t take any notice. She was the one who designed it for Chisholm’s in the first place. She’s a bit miffed because Charles won’t let her design a replacement yet. Keep the underwear on, sweetie, it’ll be quicker. Put your original stockings on though. The ones for tonight will be packed with the dress. They cost twenty-nine dollars a pair and are so delicate I guarantee you’d snag them at work if you wore them this afternoon. There’ll be a couple of spare pairs for you too. Nothing but the best. Oh. . . and by the way, there will be three pairs of lace, elbow length gloves in there as well to complete the look.”