“I’m not that young. I know my pin ups!” Susan turned her back to Mr. Carson, put her feet close together, her arms akimbo and then peeked over her shoulder and gave him a wink. Mr. Carson laughed with delight. “That is perfect! Oh, thank you, now proceed to the dress, if you would.” Susan put on the dress, which was an odd choice she thought. It was a Liz Clairborne dress, like from the Jon Hughes movies. She has seen such things in documentaries about the 1980’s, but never imagined she would wear it. She felt odd and out of place in the dress, though it did suit her figure.
“I like the first outfit to be an icebreaker, something unusual and non-typical. The poor creatures I went to school with were forced to wear such things, but I thought you would look sharp in one. Now, walk and prance about and act like you…rule the school, I think is the phrase.” Susan stood up super straight and strutted back and forth in the room, suddenly filling out the attitude of the dress. She turned back to Mr. Carson and strutted back to the couch, where she sat down and crossed her legs. And then she uncrossed, and recrossed them, slowly.
“That is a fantasy come true.” Mr. Carson coughed to clear his throat. ” Good lord, woman. Allright, ah, the next dress please. And as you undress this time, take more time, go slower than before.”
Susan liked hearing how he was getting turned on, and how she still felt safe. She did as he asked, not going super slow but just taking a little more time, and making eye contact with Mr. Carson whenever possible. Her conscious effort to go slower also encouraged her to bend over and move in different ways as well. A little more flirty, but not slutty. She reached for the other dress, and it was a vintage 1940’s skirt and blouse. She almost squealed, which embarrassed her a bit as she liked to keep her girly self in check, but she had always wanted to wear an outfit like this. The blouse had shoulder pads, and draped so sexily on her. And the dress had that tightness that showed off her ass. She walked about a bit, posing and turning a bit.
“I love this dress, Mr. Carson.”
“It looks amazing on you, indeed the 1940’s is your decade.”
“Do you have another dress for me?”
“Perhaps, but would you undress again, and, would you undress even slower this time.”
Susan had been hoping he would ask her to go slower. Being in the old clothes, with their old scent, a scent like no new clothes had, made her feel even more brazen and powerful and she revealed herself again, to this man, who only wanted…needed to watch. She watched him watch her, and loved how he seemed to continue to split his attention to every part of her body, and how his little smile and wide eyes never ceased. She owned this guy, his entire brain was focused on all she was and on anything she felt like showing him.
“Would you lie back and just lay there for a while, with the blouse as it is.” Susan had got the skirt off, and she leaned back as requested, with the shirt open. “Astounding, just lay there…oh, I love that part right there…”
“What? Which part?”
“The crease of your thigh, on the edge of your pelvis.”
“Oh? Here?” Susan ran her hand up her leg from her knee and paused at the very top of her thigh, and then slowly pulled her hand down to her side. “oohhhhh….”Mr. Carson cooed. Susan had never felt so turned on without having any of her privates being touched. She rolled over onto her stomach and slowly moved into a doggy style pose, which she held, and then sat up to face Mr. Carson. “And what do you want now, Mr. Carson?”
“There is a corset, over there, have you ever worn one?”
Susan gasped a little. She had once, at a Renaissance Festival a long time ago, and had loved it. It was like armor, and it made all her curves into weapons! She found the corset, took off her bra quickly and began to put on the corset.
“Oh, Ms. Susan, you will need the undershirt to protect your skin. It’s just there.” It was an overlarge linen ‘Three Musketeers Style’ shirt that was almost as long a dress. She popped it on and then put the corset over it. It was well constructed and had the heft of quality. “Oh, wait, I can’t tighten this on my own…” She turned to Mr. Carson.
“Actually, use the two rings on the post behind you, run the ties through them, that’s it. Now you can use the rings to pull them tight, yes…
Susan put one tie through each of the metal rings, stood close to the post and the pulled the ties out from either side. She had to brace herself a bit, and though the corset tightened well it did take some effort. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mr. Carson staring intently as she strained to tighten the garment that was confining her body.
“Oh my, you’re like a Rodin!”
“What’s that, Mr. Carson?” Susan asked with a lilt of tease in her voice.
“The sculptor Rodin, the man who did The Thinker, liked to show muscular tension in his works. His figures are twisted in positions no human would attempt in real life. Oh, your calves do show nicely like that.”
“My calves? Oh, they’re spindly.”
“Indeed, they are slim, but when you put pressure on them…yes! Like that, they round out in a very attractive manner.”
“Hmph. Attractive for you, perhaps.”
“No I do believe I am speaking objectively.”
Susan pulled against the ties a little more, but in a more ornamental manner, straining her muscles, stretching out her arms and her legs, her side and shoulders as Mr. Carson ooh and ahh’d, with comments as if he was watching a dance, or looking at a sculpture.
Finally she stopped stalling and managed to tie off the corset. She stepped out and presented her self to him. “Please take off your garters and hose.” She did so, finding some of the positions difficult to do elegantly with the corset on her. As she bent over, and stretched up, and sat down, and lifted a leg, and pointed a toe and all the other little poses she committed in front of his green eyes, Mr Carson watched it all. Happily a Lou Reed song started up, and the languid intensity fit the scene wonderfully. Undressed of all except the corset and long shirt, she leaned back and her hands softly moved the cloth around her legs, showing a little skin, and covering it again. She wasn’t looking at Mr. Carson now, as she knew he would be watching every move she made, and it so felt natural now, even like she deserved it. I mean look at me, Susan thought, I’m fucking gorgeous!! Her face lit up with a huge smile as those word came into her head, and Mr. Carson saw the smile.
“Oh, yes you are beautiful. And a wonder to behold.”
“How did you know I was thinking that?”
“Oh, no psychic powers were used. That smile, just then, could mean nothing else.”
She kept smiling, and continued to loll…loll? Yes, by Jane Austen she thought loudly to herself, she was Lolling about the couch, luxuriating in the soft velvet, the natural linen and the armor of the corset and all the contrasting feelings they brought up in her. After Lou Reed passed and a Nina Simon song started, Mr Carson spoke up.
“I’d like you to take off the Corset, and the long shirt, if you would, and, of course, please take your time.”