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9.
I was still shocked over Alan's casual way with money. Between the gold collar he insisted I wear and all those clothes, he had spent more than I made in three months, maybe more. He just took over. Telling me what he did and didn't like on me. He has wonderful taste and the clothes were gorgeous but it was unsettling having no say about anything. I was also uneasy about feeling so indebted to him.
Now, in spite of my protests he ushered me into this place that apparently specialized in intimate apparel.
"Alan, I have plenty of underwear."
"We're not here for underwear. I don't want you to wear bras and panties any longer. In fact, go into the fitting room and take them off. I'll bring you some hose I want you to model for me and you can give me your bra and panties then."
He left me standing there and went over to talk with the woman behind the counter. I'd had it on the tip of my tongue to refuse but he gave me no chance. He glanced back and saw me hesitating. He made a little shooing gesture toward the changing room. Damn, I felt like saying no, at least once, but I didn't want to make a big deal out of nothing.
I went into the fitting room; it was large and mirrored on three walls, with plush carpeting and an antique loveseat. If the changing room is this swanky, I thought, their prices must be ridiculous. I lowered my panties and stepped out of them. I was going to insist he let me by lunch, before he put himself in the poorhouse splurging on me.
I slipped off my jacket and blouse and shrugged out of my bra. When I put the blouse back on, I noticed in the mirrors that my nipples were very obvious through its sheer fabric. I would have to keep my jacket on. I was reaching for it when the door opened and Alan walked in followed by the saleswoman.
My bra and panties were on the loveseat where I had placed them. Alan picked them up and sat down. He held my held the crotch of my panties under his nose for a moment and smiled. He handed both articles to the startled saleswoman who hesitantly accepted them with the tips of her fingers. By now I could feel myself blushing furiously.
"Throw these away, will you please, Miss?"
"Certainly, Sir."
As she left with my underwear, I thought I saw her smirking. I could imagine what was going through her mind. Before I could open my mouth to let him know he'd embarrassed the hell out of me, he handed me a pair of black hose.
"Don't say a word. Put those on for me."
I realized now that this was some sort of erotic game that he was playing. Maybe if I put them on, it would satisfy him. I made up my mind that we would have a talk about all this later though. I sat next to him and slid the stockings on. They felt strange, as I had never worn anything other than panty hose.
"Stand over there so I can see properly."
I did as he asked. Seeing them in the mirror, I had to admit that they looked and felt very sexy. At that moment the saleswoman returned and Alan asked her opinion.
"Yes. She has the legs for them but the seams are not quite straight."
"I see that." He said, "Fix them for her, will you?"
It felt very odd, being discussed by the two of them, as if I was a mannequin. The saleswoman moved around and knelt behind me. I felt her hands travel from my ankle, up my calf and then my thigh, gently adjusting the seam. I have never had an erotic thought about another female in my life but the sensation of her hands on my leg made my pussy twitch. When her hands made their way up my other leg, I knew the contact was making me wet and I could feel my face getting hot again. At last she stood and walked over to Alan.
"Yes." He said, "That is much better. She's going to need a suspender belt. Will you pick out something nice for her, Miss."
"Certainly."
She left again and this time she was definitely smirking.
"Alan, get rid of her, please. This is too embarrassing."
"Nonsense. It's her job. You don't get embarrassed in a women's locker room do you?"
She was back. Ignoring me, she held up a black, lacy garter belt for Alan's approval.
"That is perfect." He said, "Put it on for her, won't you?"
The woman came and knelt down in front of me and looked up. Her eyes told me that she had now caught on to Alan's little game and was enjoying my discomfit. She just knelt there smiling, as if waiting for something.
"Help her out. Miara." Alan said, "Lift your skirt for her."
With both of them looking at me expectantly, I felt trapped. I slowly raised my skirt to the tops of my thighs but stopped, remembering that I no longer was wearing any panties.
"Lift it up around your waist, Ma'am. This fastens over your hips." she told me.
I fastened my eyes on a spot above Alan's eyes and gathered the skirt up around my midriff. I knew my naked pussy was now right in front of the woman's face. She leaned forward a bit as she reached behind me to encircle my hips. My senses had come alive and her touch as she smoothed and adjusted the belt was magnified in my mind. She must have known this because she took her time fastening the stocking clips.
"Spread your legs, dear, so I can get these inside ones." She said.
As if in a trance, I did as she directed. The second my thighs parted I was further humiliated. The smell of my arousal seemed to fill the room. If I could smell myself, it had to be completely evident to her, I thought with dismay. As she worked at the last two clips, I could feel her fingers and the backs of her hands on my inner thighs and her exhalations against the hairs on my pussy. Suddenly, I noticed myself in the mirrors. There I was, standing with my hard, dark nipples showing through a damn see through blouse, holding up my skirt, with my bare pussy framed by sexy black stockings. My reflection going from mirror to mirror, multiplied itself. Each whorish image of me growing smaller and smaller until I disappeared into the depths of the glass. I knew then that Alan had done this to me on purpose. I should have hated him for it. I wanted desperately to be angry. Instead, seeing myself as he was seeing me, I let myself admit how turned on I was. Horrified, I felt a trickle of my juice start down the inside of my thigh.
At last she was finished. She started to stand but hesitated when something caught her attention. Then, as if it were the final detail of her task, she reached two fingers between my thighs and wiped the wet trickle she had discovered there. I am sure that if she had touched me again I would have had a screaming orgasm but she stood up. She left the room holding her fingers out in front of her as if she had not quite decided what to do with them.
I let my skirt fall and regained my composure. Alan was holding my jacket for me. As I slipped into it he said he was starved. He said it as though nothing had happened.
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