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A mischievous smirk almost gave Monique away. “I’m wearing a dress. Of course I’m also wearing underwear.”
“Excellent. Give them to me.”
“Why?”
She looked at her with the expectation that she would tell her what she wanted to hear.
“Because I told you to. Or should I punish you later?”
“No, ma'am.” Monique looked around the room, making sure that none of the staff were back yet. She pressed herself against the dark corner of the gallery and reached beneath her skirt. “You realize that I have to try on dresses here, right?”
“Yup.”
Well, that was one way for a woman to enjoy herself while her girlfriend shopped with her credit card.
Monique waited for Helen to shield her before she slipped out of her undies and shoved them into her Mistress’s waiting hand. With a grin the size of the sun on her smug face, Helen stuffed the silk into her purse.Cushioning your phone, are they?Helencrossed her arms and pretended to find the crown molding of the boutique fascinating as one of the shop girls came back with a white dress tossed across her arm.
Even though she wore a slip and bra, Monique was still acutely aware of the lack of clothing between her legs. While she pulled off her current dress and put on the white one, she thought of Helen standing at the entrance, holding her girlfriend’s underwear in her pocket as if she owned them.Today, she does.Ah, now it all made sense.
The way she asked for them.
How insistent she was on buying Monique clothes that day.
Now, how Helen gazed at her as she twirled in a white chiffon gown that looked like it could be a wedding dress at a golf resort?What a way to get married.Monique stopped and laughed, the employee looking at her as if she were loony while Helen held in her snort.
She really does own me.Helen was dressing up the princess she wanted to kidnap and have her way with. This meant that while Monique should find something she enjoyed wearing, this was more about Helen’s tastes than anyone else’s.Find something that knocks her socks off.She turned down the white gown because it was too frou-frou for her seductive style.I need to make her want me the moment she sees me.
“Bring me something black.” Before the shopgirl departed to the back room, Monique signaled her to come closer. “Something sexy.”
The girl took a look at Helen and then back to Monique again. She nodded, feet whisking her to that back room again with the white dress in hand. Monique didn’t want to look like a fairy princess. She wanted to bedeck herself in a gown befitting an irresistible queen.
She stood in nothing but her half-slip and bra, her delicate curls resting on her bare skin and falling before her face. At first,she didn’t mind avoiding the mirror but caught a glimpse of Helen’s reflection, hunger raging in her visage.
Chills destabilized Monique. She was heinously aware of her breasts pushed up in her lacy pink bra, the one she put on that day to entice Helen when she would undoubtedly start undressing them both that evening. She never counted on being taken to a boutique and put on display in front of her Mistress.Nobody batted an eyelash when she stayed behind.Perhaps the staff automatically assumed they were a couple. Did they look and act like one? Helen certainly put her protective hands on Monique more than once.
Ah, Monique had forgotten how exciting it could be… this paraded around business. Dommes, especially the rich ones, liked to show off their money. They enjoyed displaying their business conquests. And they definitely liked showing off their partners. It sounded so animalistic. So primal. So what Monique needed – and wrote in her missive to Helen two days ago. She saw Helen take it out now. A single piece of paper she kept in a clutch. With pen in hand, she crossed off from the list. Monique didn’t know what it could be.
“Here we go!” The girl returned, carrying two different black dresses. She held them up in front of Monique. One was a svelte mermaid that would more than adequately hug her curves. Monique looked it over for a while, fingertips feeling the soft fabric and debating whether the restrictive movement was worth it.Maybe. Perhaps the other dress is better. A short, flared skirt supported a high-neck and strapless bodice that, when Monique looked closer, sported a keyhole on the chest.
She plucked that dress from the employee. “I’ll try this one on.”
Sure enough, it was perfect.
What set it apart from a regular brunch dress was the keyhole that rested at the top of Monique’s cleavage. Combined with hercurls, she had the air of a woman ready for a fancy dinner. Like the one Helen had reservations for shortly after this.
“Looks like a winner to me.” Helen was behind her, peering over Monique’s shoulder but not touching her. “You should get it… and wear it out of here.”
That was Helen’s cue that they were done shopping. The clothes Monique wore into the store were boxed up with the red dress, and the shopgirl snipped off the tags once Helen’s credit card went through. Monique excused herself to the powder room to freshen up her makeup and ensure that it matched her new dress. Once the mascara was gingerly applied and a fresh coat of blush put on, she pulled back her curls into a loose bun that rained upon her shoulders.
When she stepped back into the boutique, the bags were already in Helen’s car – and she was staring at Monique, eyes dancing between her face and the dress on her body. Restlessness didn’t settle in until they stepped outside, Monique without her coat or shawl. For a spring day, it was rather cold, the temperature snapping against her arms as she waited for Helen’s driver to open her door. The moment Helen put her hand on Monique’s back, a cold breeze blew by, reminding her that an important piece of clothing was currently in her Mistress’s purse.Holy… Monique’s eyes widened, and Helen had to push her toward the car to get her to sit.
Dinner reservations had been made with privacy in mind. That’s what Monique discovered when they arrived and the host took them into a small back room with low lighting and candles burning brightly in the center of the table. Champagne was readily available, but Helen ordered a vintage wine the moment they were seated.
“Very good,” their waiter, a man dressed better than most office workers, said. “Would you like to order dinner, or at least appetizers, madame?”
French food, huh?Monique deferred her order to Helen, who decided on the chef’s choice. “No appetizers. The wine will tie us over until the main course.”
“Should the meals be served at the same time, madame?”
