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Stylings By Bizarra, Inc. - Part 2 |
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By Nigel McParr
The next morning, when Maria opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was the framed photo of Page looking back at her from her nightstand. Page, the girl with the chestnut hair, incredible bustline, and the longest legs Maria had ever seen. Page had that same dreamy smile she always had when she looked at Maria. She was 24 , four years younger than Maria. She’d become an awesome lover and still the total innocent, unaware of where life might lead her or what she wanted to. She’d never been with a boy and Maria intended to keep it that way. Page’s soft expression and parted lips in the photo reminded Maria it had been awhile since she’d had that girl’s chestnut locks clamped between her legs. God, the girl had a silvery tongue that wouldn’t quit - not to mention her body. There was something else, too, bothering her that Maria couldn’t quite put her finger on. Something had been going on; something was happening in their relationship or perhaps it was happening only to Maria. Her perspective was changing; the sense of it was manifest by the tautening in her belly when she looked at the photo. There was a heightened conviction and the tone of her voice had begun to change when she spoke to Page. Whatever was going on had stubbornly burrowed into the recesses of her mind and would not expose itself. Her vision of Page morphed into Molly the mannequin. Molly submissive expression last night when Senora Angelina had snapped her fingers and ordered her to go straight to the Diva’s suite reminded her of Page. Page was so much like Molly. Why hadn’t she seen it? Molly’s face had said it all. Maria would never forget that expression of sheer fright and eager anticipation of what was to befall her. Maria had seen that same fearful – eager look on every one of the Diva’s mannequins, but it had never registered like it did last night and then again this morning when she woke to Page’s photo. She should everything in her power to help Senora Angelina turn Page a mannequin. Page might be skeptical at first, but Maria was sure she could bring her around. A delightful shiver shot through her as she got out of bed. Already, she was formulating a plan. The awareness of it invigorated and motivated her. Poor Page would be hard put to refuse her when she took her into her arms and kissed her. Under Senora Angelina’s gentle guidance and later firm control, Page would come to know and accept who she really was. Like the other mannequins, Page would find her place, anxious to be whipped and allowed to bask in Senora’s and the Diva’s auras. The concept was beginning to take hold of Maria. She could feel the sea change taking place within her. She had been denying the feelings swirling within herself. Her work at the firm, her relationship with Senora Angelina and the Diva, and even Jeffrey Stillwell, as distant as he was, were transforming her. Senora, bless her heart, could sense her muddled thoughts and even manipulated her. She’d always been close to the older woman, and now her mentor was encouraging and prodding her to emerge from her cocoon. Whatever it was growing inside her, she understood now it was going to affect and transform her relationship with Page. And then for the first time with no warning she caught a glimpse of the thought lurking in the back of her mind - what she’d refused to acknowledge. Senora knew. She’d known all along her training and discipline of the mannequins was decidedly similar to the relationship Maria wanted to have with Page. All she had to do metaphorically speaking was pick up the whip. Maria knew Page loved her unconditionally. There was no question about that. But how did she feel about Page? Did she love her? She did, but not in the same way Page loved her. At that instant, her inner most needs made their way to the surface. Maria knew for certain without reservation now what it was she wanted: she wanted to take charge of Page. She would love Page and see to her needs, but Maria would set the rules. Page would obey or suffer the consequences. Now she understood why she’d been so nervous and excited last night. It had begun when she’d gone to Senora’s office and found Molly there. The mannequin was so adorable she could have taken her to bed. Senora Angelina - bless her heart - had of course known that and to her credit said nothing. To make matters even more interesting, Maria had been given time to study the mannequin’s voluptuous curves and her lush breasts while Senora treated Molly as if she were a lifeless dress dummy. Senora had offhandedly dismissed Molly, dispatching her to the Diva, knowing full well what was in store. Senora had waited for Maria to go down the stairs, before she herself had hurried down the darkened hallway to join the Diva for an evening of pleasure and subjugation. The powerful memory left Maria hot and wet. She understood now: the Diva’s mannequins meant nothing to the Diva and Senora. The mannequins by their own choice had become pleasure dolls, sorority sisters hopelessly subservient and manipulated by Senora and the Diva. Once the girls surrendered to the Diva, she herself tightly ensnared them in her web of invisible but steely threads. Molly’s shrieks came back to her and hung in the morning sunlight like echoes drifting across a glass-smooth lake. Maria barely realized her hand had slipped between her thighs. Her eyes fluttered closed and her mouth fell open. The vision of Molly hung before her, her sex radiant and glistening. Her plump bottom cheeks flanking a red T-bar thong were lined with scarlet welts…
Stirred by the impromptu masturbation and brimming with a commitment to follow through, Maria turned on the shower. So, what was she going to do with Page? The girl was struggling to make ends meet on meager part-time modeling fees. She was a born model, gorgeous and tall, but had the misfortune to be too busty for many of the assignments that came her way. She could move Page in with her and that would address the financial issue. Page would love that. The beauty of it was Page would unwittingly deliver herself into Maria’s hands where she could bring her to heel. When Page realized what was happening it would be too late. What could be better, she thought, than having Page squarely under her thumb? It also occurred to her she could have Page and eat her too. She’d sacrifice Page to the Diva and Senora and still have a measure of control over her. Turning Page into a mannequin made good sense, particularly the way it would enhance her future with the firm. Senoraand the Diva had met Page. The way they’d studied her left little question they were interested in bringing her into the firm as a mannequin. If the firm accepted Page, she’d become a Bizarra mannequin with comfortable room and board provided and more importantly she’d be kept at the firm 24/7 unless she left with the Diva for an afternoon or evening outing. The possibility, the very notion of Page being held in thrall by the Diva, aroused Maria. It would solve Page’s finance problem and the Diva would surely reward her. There might even be a promotion. While the hot shower needled her skin, she soaped her breasts and discovered her nipples had ignited. She closed her eyes and began to tease the tips of her engorged nipples while her other hand, well soaped, found its way between her thighs. As she teased herself through several more orgasms, last night’s meeting with Senora kept coming back to her. Senora had suggested she stop wearing a bra, but there was more to it than that. Maria was nobody’s fool. She had a heightened sensitivity to feminine innuendos, which stood her in good stead at the firm, which other than CFO Jeffrey Stillwell, was 100% female. She would not have lasted eight years as a Bizarra seamstress without the gift of intuition. She accepted the Sicilian Senora Angelina as number two in the firm and understood her message. Senora and the Diva were grooming her and no longer wanted her wearing the firm’s bras. From now on, if they saw her in a bra, it would not go well for her. Maria would accede to their wish. There would be jiggling and bouncing to contend with. Going braless was an annoyance, but in the big picture it meant she was being moved up in the firm closer to the Diva’s inner circle - a small price to pay for advancement. After her shower, she stood naked before her full-length bedroom mirror and coyly adopted a pose she’d seen the mannequins use for the Diva’s best customers. The reflection in the mirror pleased her. Her gray-green eyes were large and soft, almond-shaped, and angled upward at their corners. Her ebony hair shone in the sunlight streaming in the bedroom window and flowed in a shimmering cascade halfway down her back. Her mouth was generously wide, her lips naturally plump and full. Thanks to the firm’s line of bustiers and corsets and Senora’s regimen of tight-lacing, she’d acquired a taut 23-inch waistline. She couldn’t compare with some of the mannequins’ but they were under Senora’s control and she was far more rigorous with their corset training than she was with Maria. Her trained waistline set off generous hips, the firm flesh of her thighs, and her breasts, which in the past several years had grown overly large and full. Her breasts were tipped with dark-textured areoles and large comfortable nipples a baby would have loved. Since high school graduation ten years ago, her breasts had enlarged and were now one of her best features. They’d grown so heavy they nearly reached her navel. Maria planted her hands on her hips and studied her profile. It wouldn’t be long before her nipples rotated downward and aligned themselves with her waist. Senora had predicted it, and she would be pleased when it finally happened. Page would also be pleased, though in a completely different way. She sighed. It was time to get dressed, eat a quick breakfast, and get to work. She opened her underwear drawer and studied the ordered stacks of panties and bras; all of which had come to her courtesy of the firm. The Diva had made it clear in her initial interview that if she wanted to become a seamstress at Stylings By Bizarra, she would wear nothing but the firm’s underwear and clothing lines both at work and on weekends. It was important for business, the Diva explained. She wanted her designs be seen not just on her mannequins, but on all of her employees. Other than the wash-worn jeans and faded tank tops Maria wore in her apartment, her entire wardrobe had come from the firm. It was a great arrangement that saved her a lot of money. The bad news was virtually every item in her wardrobe was provocative; revealing, slinky, low-cut, see-or through, or too tight Page of course loved her outfits, especially her skin-tight indigo designer jeans. Maria took out her stack of low cut, open nipple, lacey, sheer, and cotton nursing bras. Rifling through them, she thought about how much pleasure those bras had brought to Page and poor Jeffrey Stillman. He tried not to stare too obviously while he ogled her welling cleavage clearly visible through the sheer blouses she wore to work. She could see the emerging hump in his pants. It embarrassed him when she looked so boldly at his swollen cock. With all the jiggling and her proud nipples tenting her blouses, going braless, would be even more provocative. Page, however, was going to be disappointed. On rainy nights, she loved to open Maria’s nursing bras. Maria wondered if Senora would allow her to do that for Page after she’d come into the firm. Senora was not known for being generous with her mannequins. Times change, she thought as she transferred her bra collection to a bottom drawer where she kept her at-home jeans and tops. From the underwear drawer, she chose one of the firm’s most popular offerings; a bright crimson see-through lace thong with an open crotch. Maria wore the firm’s line of open crotch panty designs when she knew she’d not be able to get through the day without fondling herself under her desk. Thanks to her plans for Page, this was definitely one of those days. Over her panties, she fastened a ribbed scarlet garter belt. As she ran a pair of seamed tawny nylon hose up her legs, she realized just how much she’d come to love dressing this way. It was erotic and exciting and she hoped she could make Page a part of it. It would be up to Senora and the Diva, of course. She’d talk to Senora today and see where it went. The thought of Page becoming a Bizarra mannequin was almost too much to hope for…
She sat down at her dressing table and brushed out her long raven hair until it shown. Today, instead of putting it up she pulled it back from her face and tied it with a scarlet satin bow into a languorous pony tail. For her first braless day at the firm, she chose a stretchy tight-fitting apricot-colored top with a cross-over bodice that barely supported the weight of her breasts. Without the benefit of a bra, her breasts settled comfortably low into the stretchy top. The taut resilient fabric shaped her bust into a graceful quivering single swollen round ballooning an inch or two above her waist line. The cross-over V neckline was cut low across her breasts to display enough cleavage to excite the mannequins. Her nipples were bumping proudly through the thin fabric. She wasn’t completely sure of her new look. She might have felt more comfortable in a bra, but she correctly assumed the Diva and Senora would be pleased. To go with her top, she put on a denim mini-skirt with saucy patch pockets and set off with four-inch gleaming stiletto heels. As Maria entered the firm that morning, the swing of her hips enhanced by her spiked heels caused her breasts to bounce and swing from side to side. While she desperately wished she had on a bra it quickly became apparent her female co-workers loved her new look. “Maria, you look so sweet! “Can I wrap you up and take you home tonight?” “Now that’s a statement, girl! Jiggle on!” “You shoulda done it years ago.” “Finally, she’s done it” a plump seamstress sans bra cried as she merged from her cubicle to give Maria a hug and a kiss on her cheek. Smiling proudly now and obviously pleased, Maria lifted her arms over her head and did an impromptu hip-swiveling bump and grind that sent cheers through the office cubicles. She thanked everyone, and then made her way to her own cubicle, where she sorted through her sewing projects for the day: a stack of pinned-together skirts and blouses, an interesting navy cocktail dress, a bustier, a garter belt, and finally the see-through plunging bra Senora had created on Molly last night. She checked her e-mail and spotted Senora’s note. “Mia cara, See me, please.” A shiver ran through her. Even with last night’s events in the Diva’s suite, Senora hadn’t forgotten about her. Senora was keeping an eye on her and that was good. It would be an opportunity to bring up the prospect of hiring Page. She set the stack of new sewing beside her machine and hurried upstairs to Senora’s office. Senora was wearing one of her ubiquitous black silk dresses. This particular dress was Maria’s favorite. It fit tightly across the Sicilian’s broad hips and barely supported her huge bustline fully exposed in a smooth low sweeping arc. Senora was bent over her cutting table, scissoring through a sheet of diaphanous fabric so sheer Maria could see the creases in Senora’s fingers beneath the fabric. Bent over as she was, Senora’s scooped neckline and bodice had fallen forward until her dress could scarcely contain the sheer weight and volume weight of her Olympian breasts. In that pose, she was exposing 9- 10 inches of her plump startlingly deep olive-skinned cleavage. Maria loved it. It was a daring design for an older woman. She hoped she, too, could pull it off with such aplomb when she was Senora’s sage. Hearing Maria’s knock, Senora lifted her head and smiled warmly at Maria. “Good morning, Maria. Don’t you look heavenly? That denim skirt becomes you,” she said wryly. “I heard the accolades downstairs. I’ll bet they loved your new bustline.” As Senora straightened up, her breasts shifted lower so that her nipples were positioned below her waist and the swollen fullness of her rocking breasts filled her bodice and met smartly beneath the shimmering silk in a fresh display of flesh and cleavage. Maria couldn’t take her eyes off Senora’s stunning and unapologetic display of breast and décolletage. “Mother, I love that dress, especially the neckline. It’s so dramatic.” Senora glanced down at her breasts and then smiled at Maria. “Well my girls love it, too. And of course so does Jeffrey. She laughed. But he doesn’t dare say so. He’s of no concern to me - the Diva keeps him in line. And if he ever dared to look at me the wrong way, he knows what would happen.” she smiled wickedly. “It’s those dear little mannequins that matter to me.” Senora glanced down at her breasts. “You should see my husband when I put on this dress.” “I can imagine,” Maria laughed, warming to Senora’s candor. “You once told me he minds better when you wear that dress.” “Oh, yes,” Senora said, breaking into a smile. “Like a puppy dog.” Her expression changed as she studied Maria. “Look at you, cara. Braless, you remind me of the Roman goddess Diana. You were meant to go braless. The Diva will be very pleased.” Senora crossed the room and took Maria into her arms. As she held her in an assured maternal hug, she whispered, “The Diva has plans for you. You’ve wisely taken the first step and we will take you further. You’re good for the firm.” Maria blushed as Senora’s confidence and warmth seeped into her. “I don’t deserve this,” she whispered. “Yes, you do, Maria Tremblay. You’ve earned it with your work and your loyalty to the firm.” “Thank you, Senora. That means a lot to me. May I please speak frankly?” “But of course, cara. What is it? Is there something wrong?” “Well, no, nothing’s gone wrong – not exactly. It’s about my girlfriend Page. You’ve seen her here. Do you recall her?” Senora nodded emphatically. “Oh, yes, I would never forget the likes of that one. I look at the photo you have in your cubicle every time I pass. She’s a model, but she needs a new wardrobe. She should be wearing silks and satins – not blue jeans! She’s very pretty and very quiet in your presence I noticed.” “Oh, she can be a chatter box.” “Mmm hmm. Perhaps quiet was the wrong word choice. Would submissive be a better word?” Maria blushed at Senora’s insight and the lift of her questioning brow. “Let me guess, cara; you are wondering how you might take Page under your wing - into your charge.” Senora’s frankness embarrassed Maria. “Well, yes. I mean – well, you know since I’ve begun working here I’ve become more of a take-charge person. I like to be in control. Page is younger than me and struggling to establish her modeling career. I’m afraid she’s not doing very well. Is it wrong for me to want to guide her?” “Of course not. You should guide her and you should also keep her bottom well warmed with a fat old hairbrush.” Maria turned scarlet under Senora’s forthright gaze. “I-I do…I have spanked her, but as you suggest probably not long and hard enough. I’ll get a hairbrush.” Senora opened a drawer in her cutting table and took out a stout maple hairbrush. She handed it to Maria. “I’m loaning you this hairbrush. Use this on Page until you can find something like it. It’s very effective – just ask my mannequins.” Maria took the brush and turned it over in her hands. Without looking up, she said, “Might there be a chance of one day bringing Page into the firm - as one of your our live-in mannequins?” Senora gave Maria a reassuring touch on her arm. “Your timing is impeccable. Have you read my mind? The Diva and I have been discussing the need for another mannequin. We’ve kept it a secret, but this I can tell you. We’re losing our little Sophie to our biggest customer Ingrid Bergstrom.” Maria was both surprised and happy to hear Sophie was leaving. It meant a job opening. At the same time, she knew of Ingrid Bergstrom and her reputation for being haughty and difficult especially with the mannequins. It was said she was a devout and strict disciplinarian, perhaps even more so than the Diva and Senora. She wondered - but did not ask - if Sophie had any idea what might be in store for her when she went to the Paulson mansion. In the end, she decided it didn’t really matter what happened to Sophie. What mattered now was Page. Senora continued. “You understand Page must be docile and obedient and willing to live here at the firm under my terms and supervision.” Maria nodded. “I understand.” “We’ll thoroughly interview her before we make our decision. Based on your recommendation and what we’ve seen of her, Page may well have a long term future with us. I’ll talk to the Diva and get back to you.”
Late that afternoon Maria was in her cubicle finishing upthe last sewing project of the day when her e-mail beeped. She set down a gauzy nearly transparent blouse that she hoped she’d soon be able to wear to work, and read the message. It was from the Diva and marked urgent. “ Maria, come to my office.” Maria wasted no time going up to the Diva’s second floor suite, a rarified place she was rarely allowed to visit. When Maria walked into the office, the Diva was seated at her desk and Senora was sitting on a mahogany leather sofa that flanked the Diva’s desk. Once again the expensive and tasteful furnishings and accents impressed Maria. A huge Brazilian rosewood desk with an asymmetrically shaped top, a matching armoire, and credenza dominated the far end of the room. Richly woven oriental carpets were scattered over the gleaming hardwood floor. There were no windows to the outside world. It was as if the Diva were withdrawing, seemingly walling herself off from the outside world. Picasso prints on the deep forest green walls were interspersed with design sketches of the firm’s products. Several polished brass lamps cast a soft patina of light over the office interior. A pair of paneled rosewood doors with polished brass hardware led from the Diva’s office into the interior of the suite. Mariah had never been beyond those fabled double doors. For the moment, Ms. Eileen Williams - the Diva - ignored Maria. She continued to discuss a new design project with Senora while Maria studied the Diva’s desk, which. contained nothing but an expensive fountain pen and a pad of paper. She was the antithesis of Senora and Maria; quite tall and nearly anorexic. She had an imperious air about her that demanded deference and respect from those around her. Her deep auburn hair was swept up in layered coils on top of her head. She had a model’s oval face, thin with high sculpted cheek bones, deep-set luminous eyes, and a thin cruel mouth. She wore one of her firm’s designs; a calf- length black leather pencil skirt, gleaming laced boots, and a white silk blouse. Her bosom was minimal beneath her blouse. A long scarlet ribbon was woven through her hair. The Diva finally turned her attention to Maria, smiled wanly, and came around Ms. Williams spoke softly and with conviction. “Miss Tremblay, thank you for coming up here. I must commend you on your sewing. You’re a superb seamstress. The very best I think I’ve ever had in the firm.” Her eyes traveled over Maria head to toe, making her blush. “You look scrumptious, my dear. If I didn’t need your talents as a seamstress, I’d be tempted to turn you into one of my mannequins.” Maria’s heart thudded at the suggestion. Seeing her face turn pale, Senora intervened. “Don’t worry, cara, Ms. Williams is teasing you. She won’t do any such thing. We brought you here to discuss Page.” The Diva continued to silently study Maria. She folded her arms over her chest and slowly walked around her. “Look at that denim skirt, Mother. It’s like painted on her backside. I adore the fit. I see she has taken your advice to heart and freed her breasts. They are absolutely wonderful.” “Thank you, Ms. Williams,” Maria whispered, too afraid to look the Diva in the eye. She realized she’d nearly slipped and called her Ms. Diva. “Senora says you have a girlfriend. Tell me about her, darling. How long have you known her?” The question caught Maria off guard. “Several years.” “And how is she doing in that miserable little modeling agency?” “Well, she’s had some steady work, but the firm had some bad luck. She’s on a part-time basis now.” “I’m not surprised. They are grossly under-capitalized. Are you two a number?” Maria blushed. “Ms. Williams…” “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so blunt. But, you do like her. That’s plain to see. Has she moved in with you?” “N-No.” “Look, I’ve known of Page for quite a long time. She has a gorgeous body, a fabulous bustline, and those mile-long legs…mmm. I believe Senora told you we’re losing little Sophie. We would like to bring Page into the firm - as a mannequin. And we’ll need your help. Can you persuade her to accept our terms of employment?” Maria didn’t immediately answer. She knew the terms under which the Diva’s mannequins worked. She wondered if Senora and the Diva would share Page with her after she was brought into the firm. She was feeling warm and excited. It was the right thing to do; she would coerce and deliver Page to the firm. The girl was a born submissive. She craved Maria’s approval and even accepted her spankings without much fuss. What would it be like to hear Page under the Diva’s whip? Would she shriek and scream like Molly? The question made her shiver with anticipation. “I’ll talk to her-” “No!” Senora interrupted. “You will take that girl straight over your knee and spank the daylights out of her with the hairbrush I gave you this morning. And then you will tell her what we have in mind!” The Diva nodded. “Well, put, Angelina.” Maria hesitated. Senora could see right through her. She wanted to give Page a hard spanking and Senora had just given her permission and a hairbrush to carry out the deed. “I’m sure I can convince her, Ms. Williams.” The Diva’s eyes narrowed into a menacing glitter. She spoke in an icy tone. “You mustn’t tell her the truth about our mannequins. Above all, do not tell her she’ll be kept here under my control. We’ll cover that part. Simply tell her she’ll be given room and board and a good salary. Senora Angelina will begin her training as soon as you deliver her to us.” Senora added, “Has Page ever been whipped?” “Maria blushed. “Well, no. I’ve spanked her, but she’s never been cropped or whipped. ” “Don’t mention that. We’ll ease her into it. Is she a virgin?” the diva asked. “I-I think so.” “Senora tells me you’re still a virgin yourself.” Maria nodded. “How refreshing is that? Senora and I must see to that.” The Diva smiled warmly. “You needn’t blush, Miss Tremblay. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. We always look forward to a deflowering. The Diva smiled. “It’s settled then. Rest assured Page will learn to accept her new life here. It is best for her.” “Yes, Ma’am. I’ll call her right away.” “I want her here as soon as possible, Miss Tremblay. And don’t look so worried. I promise we’ll share her with you. That agency she works for is a sleazy fly-by-night. She must move here - to the firm - and submit to indenture like my other mannequins.” Maria looked concerned. She said, “Ma’am, Ms. Williams… I don’t want to lose her…” “Don’t worry darling. You won’t lose her. Where can she go once she’s in my firm?” The Diva waved her hand. “Thank you, Maria. You may go now.”
That evening when the firm’s interior had fallen quiet and dark, Jeffrey Stillwell was still in his office. Certain he was alone, he shut and locked the office door and sat down at his computer. A few clicks and he was on-line linked to his favorite big breasts site. He paused at a photo of a leggy brunette in skin-tight denim shorts and a knotted halter top. The model was showing a ton of cleavage. Her nipples poked through the top, and the weight of her breasts severely strained the cotton fabric. It was too much. With irritating difficulty, he worked his swollen cock out of his khaki pants. He knew he was going to explode any second, but he did his best to hold back the ejaculation. The girl on the screen was tanned and gorgeous. She excited him and reminded him of Maria. Thinking of Maria immersed him in a rolling wave of shame that broke heavily over him. She didn’t deserve to be the subject of his dirty thoughts and he wished for some way to tell her how he felt without offending her. But if he told her he was nuts about her - and her tits - she’d surely give him a good slap and then go to Senora who’d tell the Diva. There’d be all hell to pay. He had no idea the omniscient Diva was poised just outside his office door. By the time he heard the click of the door latch, he realized he’d forgotten the Diva kept a key to his office. By then, it was too late. Spinning around in his chair with his hand still on his cock and jetting away a stream of cum, his heart stopped at the sight of the Diva’s outline framed in his office doorway. She stared disdainfully down at him and then at the computer screen filled now with the model’s swelling cleavage. Her pursed lips and laser-like gaze transformed him into a cornered mouse. His cock collapsed and shamefully retreated back into his pants. “Jeffrey, Jeffrey,” she sighed as she entered the office. “I thought I’d cured you of that nasty habit. I can see you’re going to need a lot more training. Wait here until Senora and I are finished with bidding Sophie a fond farewell. I’ll summon you when I’m ready…”
Continued in Part Three
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