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This is Chapter 13 out of a total 17. You will enjoy this more if you read the previous chapters first.
* * * * *
I spent the next day trying to concentrate on my work despite the complex set of experiences of the previous few, culminating in finger-fucking my boss after watching her masturbate in front of me. Not quite an ‘ordinary day at the office’. In fact, I hadn’t had what most people would describe as an ‘ordinary day’ since I’d arrived back in England several months previously. I was thoroughly enjoying my work but was looking for more responsibilities and some longer-term objectives. But as long as I was the ‘Mystery Shopper’ I could adopt only limited roles within the company so as to not arouse suspicion. I seemed, however, to be arousing almost everything else in sight including myself.
So, next week looked like this:
Monday – Mystery Shopping a competitor’s new store in Cambridge.
Tuesday – Visit to a national erotic merchandise show in Birmingham.
Wednesday – Photo Shoot with the Passionella contract photographer
Thursday – Visit to an exhibition of 20th century underwear at one of London’s great museums
Friday – nothing planned but expecting to have several orgasms
I needed a quiet weekend to recover and to take stock so I didn’t see anyone and caught up on some reading and some sleep. And I made a commitment to my over-worked pussy of no-orgasms-for-the-whole-weekend despite a deep desire to experiment with my recently-acquired toys.
* * * * *
The Erotica show on the Tuesday was enlightening, enabling me to see the latest trends and offerings in the professional end of the lingerie/leisure & pleasure-wear/performance-wear market. The third prong of Linda’s new strategy was going to meet some stiff competition! Everywhere were models on catwalks and stands wearing (or not wearing) the most revealing, concealing, constraining and restraining male and female fun-wear imaginable, amongst which the exact purpose or enjoyment of some I could not fathom. Some were clearly aimed at prostitutes, lap-dancers and strippers although many manufacturers were seeking retail outlets too. I made copious voice-notes and took away vivid images and some ideas too.
Tuesday evening I was becoming restless, having avoided all sexual activity since the previous Thursday with Linda, and my pussy and my hormones were vying for attention. I had promised myself an early night so I would be fresh for a long day at the studio but I slept fitfully and got up at 6 to have time to shower, shave and ready myself. I did not need to take any clothes or accessories, as everything would be provided. I arrived early, buoyed along by the prospect of an exciting new adventure.
I was not disappointed. I spent a fascinating day at the studio during which I was attended to by some very sexy ladies, wore some highly erotic items including some from the new product ranges and experienced things I never imagined. That day was also a very significant landmark in my sexual development. I could hardly wait to see the results although some of the shots would be quite shocking and I was nervous about Linda seeing them. I dared not to encounter her for fear of what she might say, so I immersed myself in my work. I spent a lot of time in the provincial stores, so much so that I sensed that one or two of the Dems were becoming suspicious so I had to make up ever less plausible explanations as to why I needed to buy so much lingerie.
Then one day, I received a blind copy of an e-mail from Linda to her Dems:
‘I have been making a point of speaking with a cross-section of our clients recently, ostensibly to gather feedback on the test marketing of some new lines. But I’ve also solicited their views on the performance of you, our highly-valued sales demonstrators. The over-riding message I have received is that the company non-contact rules are unnecessarily restrictive. Many of our newer, younger clients lead more liberal and risk-taking lifestyles and are ready for more intimate experiences behind closed doors.
So, from now, I am leaving the nature of activity and the degree of intimacy in the store changing rooms, and in the Private Rooms at PROM, entirely to your own discretion. Bare-skin contact with and between all parts of the body is now permitted. Up to 3 clients will be allowed in a room with one or more Passionella employees at any one time and up to 3 clients may be left alone in PROM Private Rooms, but not in a store changing room for safety and insurance reasons.
Dems will not be disciplined if they choose to maintain their own level of modesty and discretion. If you feel that this new policy will put undue pressure on you, alternative work assignments will be offered.
You will need to make very careful judgements before offering or allowing increased levels of activity. Client ‘Fees’ will continue to be levied in the form of supplements added to garment prices and will be set to reflect casino şirketleri the specialist nature of the service we provide especially to the more demanding and adventurous clients. You will be more that adequately rewarded.
I want to take this opportunity to thank you for your continued commitment to Passionella UK. If you have any questions or would like some one-to-one coaching, please speak to your responsible Personal Shopper.
Very warmest wishes, Linda’
So, at last, Linda has not just relaxed the LDT rule, she has scrapped it completely!
I’d hardly finished reading the message when my phone rang. It was Rachel. We chatted for a while and she asked if I’d heard about the new rules. She sounded very excited and told me something else: “The Private Rooms are to be much more widely available to clients outside Launch Events and small invitation-only parties will be organised on a regular basis.” She was obviously reading aloud.
“And who’s got the new job as co-ordinator of all these new initiatives?” she continued.
I guessed right; Rachel herself, and she sounded so very pleased.
Then she told me that Linda wanted to see me that same day, at 3:00 pm, to discuss some new responsibilities and to arrange some training.
When I arrived at PROM, Rachel greeted me with a broad smile and a new hairstyle. She was brimming with enthusiasm for her new role as special events co-ordinator and her inner feelings of greater self-worth manifested themselves on the surface in her facial expression, the way she stood and talked and smiled. In short, she looked even more gorgeous than usual. She wore a burgundy jacket with nothing under it, as usual, except one of her trademark power-lift deep-cleavage bras that pushed together her so, so firm breasts, clearly visible between the plunging lapels of her single-button jacket. She wore matching hipster trousers that showed off plenty of gently-rounded tummy as her jacket parted again below its solitary, straining fastening.
“Rachel, dearest, where has all that lovely hair gone?” I demanded, as she turned her back to me to show off a very sophisticated, sharply-styled bob cut. The massive volume of her hair allowed her to carry off her new hairstyle to perfection. She looked more mature, and even more alluring than before.
“It had to go; it’s all on the salon floor now. It was too time-consuming to look after; I’d never have kept it tidy now I’m to be ‘Special Events Co-ordinator, Passionella UK’.” She obviously liked the sound of her new job title and was taking every opportunity to use it.
Rachel took me up to Linda’s office and showed me in.
Linda greeted me with a Mediterranean kiss-on-both-cheeks and we sat next to each other on the sofa as we chatted. She quickly introduced the central topic of discussion and explained:
“You will know from my New Strategy letter to my staff, and from your modelling session at Diane’s studio …”
Linda looked deep into my eyes for several long seconds, glanced down at my mouth a couple of times then back up to my eyes, sending and receiving stronger communications than words could ever express. She’d obviously seen the photos. Then she continued:
” … that we are introducing several lines of Fetish Fashion wear.”
“Well,” she elaborated, “in order to be able to demonstrate these lines adequately, and to attract the right clientele, I want to equip the one Private Room in a sympathetic and appropriate style. And I’d like you to take on this, and some other special projects. You must maintain your cover as a valued Passionella client for as long as possible, although I know some of the Dems are becoming suspicious.”
I nodded in agreement.
Linda explained what she had in mind. “The room will be called Black and the décor and ‘equipment’ must evoke restraint and domination, whilst retaining good taste and sophistication.”
I nodded again.
“You will need to research the latest trends so you should spend time in and around the better-class fetish clubs and also read up as much as possible on popular practices and on equipment suppliers & installers. You might like to befriend Diane, the photographer, as she is something of an aficionado herself and may have some good tips and contacts. You have a virtually unlimited budget but very little time. Rachel is organising a special invitation-only party as part the launch of Pleasure In Control in 4 weeks. You can co-opt help from my staff if you need some, er, Guinea Pigs, to try out the new room. Are you up for it?”
I agreed without hesitation, but Linda cautioned me. “You will still need to visit the outlets too, regularly. I need you to ensure that the Dems are meeting our high level of customer expectation, especially now I have relaxed the rules of engagement. Do you understand? You need to push the girls, to see how far they will go and what they will and won’t do for an important and high-spending casino firmaları customer like you. Do you realise what this means?” I said that I thought I did, but Linda put it more bluntly. “You must go out and fuck them in the changing rooms and send detailed written reports back to me. OK?”
“Er, well yes, sure. Sounds good to me,” I shrugged.
What a fantastic way to earn a living. And a very good living too. Doing something I enjoyed and getting paid for it. There were some Dems in particular whom I couldn’t wait to ‘Mystery Shop’.
“I know you’ll enjoy yourself, from what I’ve seen and heard about you.”
I wondered just what she’d seen and heard, and how.
“Come and see what you have to work with,” Linda insisted, as she opened a door opposite her office. This led to another, narrower flight of stairs and then a small corridor with doors on both sides. I felt uneasy and tried to speak but Linda shhh’d me. Then she opened the last small door and ushered me into … the one remaining unused Private Room. So, Linda had her own back stairs to the rooms. Like a Tradesmen’s Entrance, but without the ‘men’.
She explained without me having to ask. “This assures complete discretion for clients who do not want to be seen entering or leaving the Private Rooms with Passionella staff or with other clients. Not everyone is so brazen as Yasmin and Zöe.” I smiled.
“This is your empty canvas,” eulogised Linda.
The room was not completely empty, but contained only a reclining chair, just like the ones in White, Silver and Gold. I walked over and sat in it. It was very comfortable.
“I’ve already arranged for Charlotte to provide some training, so you get to understand and experience the full range of possibilities that my ‘Chair of Four Pleasures’ offers to the more adventurous. Friday at 7:30 p.m. OK?”
I entered the date and time into my organiser and invoked the Double-Undelete function so I could not possibly miss the appointment.
As I left the building, Rachel deliberately stood in the doorway so I had to turn sideways and squeeze past her to get out. I brushed against her breasts and she looked at me. “New job too?”
I smiled; she was making a pass at me.
“Let me know if you need some help, won’t you,” she breathed in a sexy, Marilyn Munroe voice, unbuttoning her jacket and pushing her half-naked breasts against mine. Shit, they felt so good, I couldn’t wait to get my hands on them.
I met Diane outside her studio later that week as arranged. Stupidly, I’d expected her to be dressed in fetish wear as she emerged onto the street but she wore smart casual clothes that flattered her more mature figure. I’d chosen a tight-fitting black satin halter-neck cat-suit and matching high heeled boots with buckle straps up the front, the nearest I dared get to Fetish and still feel safe walking the streets. We chatted as we walked to the bookshop she had suggested but never once mentioned my photo session.
Diane chose the latest issues of some fetish-wear magazines and three books for me to read; I paid cash. Then we stopped outside a plain black door in a side-street. Diane phoned a number from her mobile and the door opened inwards. The doorman greeted Diane warmly by another name and looked me up and down before nodding us through. We climbed the dimly-lit stairs, which were carpeted in thick, lush black.
Diane led me into a small side room where she nonchalantly slipped off her day clothes to reveal her voluptuous body tightly clad in a one-piece cream leather corset that covered but exaggerated her breasts, matching leather tight-fitting panties and contrasting knee-length light brown boots. She looked fabulous.
Sitting at the bar sipping soft drinks, I felt I could have been anywhere. Small groups laughed and conversed animatedly and passing folk welcomed me politely. Some made intelligent conversation and others apologised before they spoke to Diane as an old friend. The only difference was that they all wore the most outrageous clothes I could never have imagined. No-one exposed so much as a nipple, let alone genitalia, but their clothes were so very, very sexy.
Some wore impossibly tight corsets that pinched in their waists to half their usual size. Others wore skin-tight outfits in every conceivable colour of leather and latex rubber. Some clients wore masks that covered some or all of their faces but others wore none so their faces were clearly and shamelessly visible. I felt outrageously over-dressed, or maybe underdressed, but Diane reassured me and put me totally at ease. She explained that tonight was just a normal club night with no activities planned, but she wanted me to see the ‘equipment’. She led me up another plush flight of stairs and through one of numerous archways into a ‘Pleasure Zone’
Here I was confronted by an alarming array of straps, buckles and chains.
“This is the type of facility that Linda wants you to create at her company HQ” güvenilir casino she explained. It made sense – to cater for the sector of Passionella’s customers who want to experience fetish-fantasy for themselves but who couldn’t or wouldn’t frequent such a brazenly explicit club as this. Under cover of a respectable up-market lingerie retailer, they could push the boundaries within a safe and trusted environment. Hmm …
Diane invited me to try out some equipment. She showed me numerous ways in which I might be secured, immobile, to the walls, the floor or to wooden and metal contraptions. She attached my wrists, waist and ankles to some leather cuffs to a device that effortlessly lifted me off the floor. Then she invited me to help her into a sling-like small hammock suspended from a gantry, demonstrating how a partner might then gain unobstructed access to her breasts, her pussy and her butt. I was intrigued and asked to try but she looked at her watch.
“Not this time, but just take a look in here,” she countered. Through another arch was a large wooden X-shaped construction against one wall, with numerous cuffs and belts along its four arms. Diane showed me how it could be rotated about its central axis; its use was obvious. Also in this area were two benches, each shaped something akin to a horse saddle.
“Fuck-machines” explained Diane. She stood beside on of them and pressed a green button causing a short, thick dildo emerged from the top, near to one end. I shuddered at the thought of what that could do to its passenger (rider?), especially when I read the array of labels under the various controls: Speed, Depth, Rotation, Vibration, Pulse, Ejaculate, and ‘Pre-set Programmes’. Diane observed my interest but led me away, advising: “Maybe one day, when you’re truly ready.”
By now my pussy was ready for something; the thought of all this stuff in full use on a busy Saturday night had me hooked. Diane had to get away so I made my own way home, my mind racing and my pussy glowing in warm expectation. That night I drifted off to sleep with images of belts and cuffs filling my head.
At home the next day, I pored over the books and magazines I’d bought as well as the catalogues and portfolios of some of Diane’s contacts; manufacturers and retailers of some highly imaginative ‘play equipment.’ I made copious notes and started to formulate a plan for Black Private Room. I phoned around and obtained some rough prices so I could put together a budget for my project
The next evening I was due at PROM for my training with Charlotte. I was looking forward to that so I took an early night, this time finding it even more difficult to keep my hands off my own pleasure-zone.
* * * * *
Compared to the experiences of the previous week, my weekend was quiet and mundane, which was exactly what I needed. I went about my everyday activities, cooking, phoning friends and attending to my personal paperwork. I also tried to make sense of the barrage of new experiences and feelings I had encountered, relating them as best I could to my childhood, my previous relationships, my dreams and fantasies and my plans for the future, vague as they were.
I needed to regain my composure and my stamina as I had a busy, demanding few weeks ahead. Usually, Emma and Linda let me plan my own time. But I was under strict instructions to ‘mystery-shop’ several of the Dems to ensure they were implementing Linda’s relaxation of the LDT rule. I figured that Linda had put some of the Dems into one of two categories: Those who would feel inhibited, and therefore unwilling or unable to provide the very intimate services that Linda had vowed to provide to her most valued clients, and the over-zealous who might damage Passionella’s reputation for discretion and sensitivity. I went through the same exercise:
Category 1: Fiona, Danielle, Abigail?
Category 2: Stevie, Abigail?? Vikki?
I realised that, in order to report back to Linda, and regardless of which category they fell into, I had to lead them on. I had to establish where their limits were, what they were willing to do for me, with me and to me, in the fragile privacy of a store changing room. I had to provoke them, and to seduce them.
I spent many hours planning my strategy, different for each woman according to her personality and my previous encounters with her. I found the process to be both challenging but also very exciting. I sometimes drifted from planning into pure fantasy, imagining myself in most unlikely situations with these attractive and sensual colleagues, in which their behaviour became erotic in the extreme and absurdly daring as my fertile imagination explored the furthest corners of my desires.
My first visit took me to the Oxford St. store in London where I found mature, redhead Fiona arranging stock. She seemed genuinely pleased to see me and was polite, helpful and professional to a fault. But try as I might, I couldn’t persuade her to do any more than to help me undress and to compliment me on my appearance. I tried really hard but I was unable to seduce Fiona into so much as undressing, let alone engaging in close physical contact. Conservative Fiona was going to struggle with the new relaxed rules.
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