by C. L. Black
“Perhaps we should close the blinds.” Miss Christi moved ahead. “Window washers.”
“Thanks.” Catherine felt better upon seeing those racks. “No fucking way!”
Elaine closed the door. Her corner office had been prepared ahead. Selections of different outfits, all in leather, were hanging on two garment racks. Without pause, the woman moved to the nearest one. “Hate to be rushed.” She sized up their subject then looked to Miss Christi. “You did say only twenty minutes?”
Miss Christi nodded.
Elaine frowned. “I must do what typically requires four hours minimum.” As the woman went on, she busied herself with the rack. “We’ll let the formal introductions and pleasantries wait until dinner.”
“That’s quite all right, Elaine. I’m sure Miss Catherine won’t mind the pace.” Miss Christi waved her arms. “Go ahead, work your magic.”
Elaine barked, “Strip!” Her French tone was now direct, totally opposite the pleasant one in reception. Elaine was now all business. Over the years she had said “strip” the exact same way to hundreds of models. She wouldn’t treat this princess any different. No matter how much royal blood flowed through that perfectly shaped gorgeous young body. “You could do with some toning.”
“What?” Catherine replied with surprise, immediately raising her defenses, and crossed her arms. She stiffened, spacing her legs further apart, as if to brace against an attack.
“Come on, sweetie. I said strip!” Elaine smiled wickedly then softened her tone. “How can you try on my creations unless you take that off?” She was pointing at Catherine’s F U T-shirt. “Please? And that cheap wrap thing too. Be quick kid! Time is our enemy.”
“It’s distressed.” She turned to Miss Christi for guidance.
“Oh, come now, dear, we all know what girls look like. Don’t we? Just pull off your top.”
Elaine said, “I’ll help with the ‘distressed’ skirt.”
Catherine slowly pulled her top up and over her head. She felt the woman unzipping her very distressed mini. “Hey!” She reached to save it—too late. The skirt flew down her long legs, crashing around her shiny heels. She stepped forward, leaving it and a treasured piece of her past behind. My BP gave me that.
“There. Very nice shape. Let’s get to work.” Elaine pulled Catherine’s still-trying-to-cover-herself arms free. “Don’t worry sweetie, I won’t bite.” She showed her sharp teeth and said, “Unless you want me to.” She laughed and Miss Christi giggled. They obviously were old friends. Close too.
Catherine wasn’t; she was standing there on display like an unsure goddess in her over-the-knee boots, protected only by her front closure push-up bra and black cotton boy shorts. She felt cold. Her skin turned porcelain.
“I see you had the good sense to go for function over form down below.” Elaine directed Catherine to turn around and put her hands on her hips. She reached around, under the arms and cupped the breasts. “How awful for you.”
Catherine jumped, “Hey!” her pulse quickened. “What the fuck’s going on?”
“Who fit you?” Elaine unfastened the bra.
“Why?” Me!
“It’s totally wrong for you.”
“Yes, I thought so too,” said Miss Christi, nodding.
“Calm down, princess. I’m just checking your firmness and…other qualities…so I can fit you properly.”
“Sure you are!” Oh-my-God! This old dyke is totally feeling me up. She pushed Elaine’s hands away. “Hey, that—”
“Please be quiet, my dear.” Miss Christi’s voice was crisp. “Unfortunately, there isn’t enough time for Elaine to explain every little step. Please, just let her fit you.”
“Just go easy on the nipples.”
“I can assure you, my dear, Elaine knows her craft without question.”
Elaine moved back to the garment racks. She worked her way along the first, picking some as she went. “Buttons, snaps, or zippers?”
“What?” Catherine was confused. She’d never felt so on display. She was still fighting off the residual nausea from the elevator. Don’t look out that window. Look the other way, at the mirror. Oh! Fuck me! Her eyes were stuck on the overexposed image in the mirror.
“Buttons, snaps, or zippers? Well?” Elaine was losing patience. Her tone sharpened. “Which is it, princess?”
I knew all this hair would come in handy. That’s better.
“Answer me!” Elaine was loud enough to be heard on Wall Street.
Fuck! “Zippers! Definitely zippers.” Snaps are okay but, “Definitely no buttons!” She shook her head na. “Too much work.”
“Keep that hair under control. Hold it up so we can see you. I think I have a sense of the look you tried to create. Here, let’s try this and this, and—Oh, yes. Here it is. This should work.” She held up the three different skirts plucked from the first rack. Each was a variant of the other. “Which of these? You, oui?”
Catherine still held a clump of her waist-length hair in each hand as she pointed at the third one. Elaine handed her the black leather skirt. “Slip it up, sweetie.” The skirt was the shortest of the three. Barely legal, it had a thin strip of red embroidered down each side that matched the accenting laces adorning her boots. She pulled the size 00 mini up, over her narrow hips. She felt the quality of the leather. The lining was a satin weave of real silk. “Fuck.” This is so nice.
“Yes, dear, fits you nicely.” Miss Christi was clearly impressed with their selection.
Catherine moved to admire her new look, in the floor-to-ceiling mirror. Elaine pulled a red and black patent leather front-zip bustier from the rack and then, “Oui,” a matching cropped fitted jacket, also with plenty of zippers. Both went with the skirt and boots perfectly.
“Try these.”
“You made all this?” Catherine zipped up the bustier and added the jacket. She almost couldn’t believe what she saw in the mirror. Fuck me! This is hot!
“Fits okay? Oui?”
“Fuck oui!” Catherine knew a little French herself. No one paid any notice.
“Now, for some panties. And, maybe a bra or two? The red and white camis are for daytime or sleeping maybe?” She added a questioning brow. “Oui, almost forgot. Where is that little purse for your essentials?” Elaine went to her desk and picked up an evening purse of black patent with a chain-link handle. It was Prada, from their summer collection. She placed it with the lingerie in a hot pink and black shopping bag. The Hush-Hush brand was scrolled on each side.
Miss Christi inquired of Elaine, “Still haven’t received the new bags yet?”
“We did, but KK ordered them sent back.” Elaine grimaced. “Tell you about it at dinner. Here, new kid, take this.” She handed her the Hush-Hush bag containing the shiny black purse, the two silk camisoles, two bras in matching colors, and four pair each of assorted silk and cotton panties. “Why don’t you just leave your old things here? I know just the place for them.” Elaine eyed the trash bin with joy.
“Sure. Whatever.” Catherine was still checking out the new kid in the mirror when Elaine opened the office door.
“We’ll see you at seven.” Elaine’s voice had lost its bite. “Just in front of the Bull and Bear. Cheers.”
“Cheers, Elaine.” Miss Christi wasted no time. She took Catherine by the arm and accelerated her through the workshop and into the reception area. “Good-bye, Miss Vicki.”
“Good-bye, Mum.” Vicki stood in the open elevator, holding the Door Open button in. “I saw you coming.” She checked out Catherine from head to toe and back. “Totally hot!” The next words dripped off her just re-glossed lips. “Going down?”
“Sure hope so.” Shit… Catherine didn’t say another word but flicked her hair as she gave her the look. Must be the boots. It’s always the boots.
Miss Christi hurried her W-M-D fashion model into the waiting elevator. “Very thoughtful of you, my dear.” Miss Christi gave a peck to Vicki’s cheek.
“Hey!” Catheri
ne watched Vicki release the Door Open button. “What’s up with you?”
“I want to go down.” Vicki glanced Catherine’s way and changed. “With you.” She was now wearing a very naughty face.
“In your dreams.” Maybe. She peered through, that keyhole.
Vicki pretended to yawn as the elevator slowed. “Can’t wait for bedtime. You?”
Really distracting. She didn’t notice the open doors.
“Come now, dear. Catherine!” Miss Christi needed to give a little tug to get her kitten moving. “One more to go. Say good-bye, dear.”
As they rode the express forty floors down to the lobby, Catherine said, “Sure wasn’t expecting that.”
“We’re not done with you yet, my dear.”
“Really?” “We”? Maybe this summer won’t be that boring after all.
Welcome to the Towers
The Towers, 16:59 local
Danielle delivered them promptly to the private entrance on East 50th Street. She handed Miss Christi two key cards as the smartly dressed doorman greeted them. The entrance was reserved for guests staying in the suites perched high above the main hotel. Six minutes later, they were in their suite on the thirtieth floor. Danielle had also arranged for their visit to the very private Guerlain Spa. Located on the nineteenth floor high above the city, the Guerlain salon and spa was just what the doctor ordered.
After a quick shower, they slipped into their complimentary plush white robes and headed down to get their hair, makeup, and paws tuned for the evening ahead. They sat together, ready for the exclusive pampering. Surrounded by a flock of attentive women, each was treated to ninety minutes of hair and makeup. Per Danielle’s special request, everything that touched their bodies was hypoallergenic and fragrance-free. Catherine’s feet weren’t in the footbath for ten seconds before she was back to her old self, texting. Their shadows weren’t far. They too were receiving certain pleasantries in the spa. Between her endless thumb-tapping, the kitten began making a few discrete inquiries.
“Um, who was that Elaine woman, anyway? How do you like, know her? Why do we have to have dinner with her? Can’t we go out clubbing or something? Maybe with that girl? You know—that cute receptionist? Why do I have to go to a boring business dinner anyway? That, what’s her name? She looked like a total party girl.” Catherine went on and on, all the while tapping away to her secret friend, repeating much of what she was saying. “You know, that Vicki chick.” Lipsticky Vicki—LV. She tapped Send.
From the next room came a shout. It sounded a lot like, bloody hell! Their esthetician then mouthed the dreaded words. Bikini wax.
“Ouch. Think she knows where to party? Why can’t I—we, go out with her? I mean, you know. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind us, unlocking her.”
“My, my, kitten. So many questions.” Miss Christi didn’t answer any of them. She understood the behavior well. Talking rapidly, mostly questions, whenever she was anxious. Drugs? Possibly. The what, had been answered, but not the how? How was she getting drugs? And, why? Why was my dear kitten on drugs? “There. Head, hands, feet, and face: all beautiful. Shall we head up and see how lovely that leather fits the new you? I also have a little surprise planned.”
What? “What is it, Miss Christi?”
“We shall see, my dear. Come now. You mustn’t keep your lady waiting.”
“Yeah. Hey, do you have a charger? My stupid battery is getting low.”
“Sorry, dear, I don’t believe I do. Best shut it off to conserve what’s left.” Miss Christi fibbed. She was determined to get whoever was on the other end of that iPhone, out of Catherine’s head.
House Keeping
Suite 30A, 19:45 local
“Housekeeping.”
Bloody hell! Ready to leave for her assignment, Jane pocketed the mobile and opened the door.
“Surprise!” KK pushed past and headed straight for the bathroom. “I really have to.”
“Go.” Jane followed, demanding, “What are you doing here?”
“Pee-pee.”
“Not what I meant.”
“Papa is here for some UN meeting. I tagged along. Elaine texted. Said she was meeting Miss Christi and you here for dinner.”
“Well, young lady, I don’t have time for you.”
“Not even a little?” KK wiped. “I missed you.”
“One bloody day? Really, KK!” Jane flushed.
“The longest day of my life! Ja, Papa is so mean.” On went the water. “Did you like the gift?
Jane didn’t answer as she reached for a hand towel.
“Didn’t you read my card?” Off went the water. “Thanks.” She wiped.
“Your card?” Bloody hell. It was there, still buried under three iPhones in her bag. “Right then. Come here, little girl.” She held the correct mobile behind KK’s back and sent: Babysitting KK, use LV. “Where is your papa staying?”
KK pulled free and purred, “Didn’t say. Told me I couldn’t see you ever again.” She pouted.
“Did he?”
“Ja. So, did you like my present?”
“Come here, you naughty girl. Now! Miss Jane has a little present for you.” Jane hiked up her cocktail dress and settled on the bed. “Well. Get on with it.”
Come now kitten
Suite 30C, 19:53 local
The girls were nearly ready to go down and meet Miss Christi’s other business partners for dinner. Miss Christi checked herself in the mirror by the entry to their large suite. She wore a knee-length black leather pencil skirt and a ruby red sleeveless silk blouse with a plunging neckline that presented her still-healthy cleavage with enticement. She also had donned several pieces of very expensive jewelry. The center showpiece, a beautiful diamond necklace, hung around her thin neck lying gracefully between, as if guarding, those still desirable breasts. She checked their fit in the mirror.
Her excitement had peaked. She concealed her obvious arousal in a matching cropped leather fitted jacket. Its cuffs trimmed with matching red silk ruffles to make the blouse appear more conservative when worn but most aggressive when removed. She buttoned the jacket’s midpoint. Just to be safe. “Come now, kitten. Don’t want to be late for our date with the girls.”
“Almost ready!” shouted Catherine from the bathroom as she dabbed on a tiny dose of her perfume. She emerged in the new leather—a stunning image of perfection wrapped in a skintight distraction.
“Oh, my dear!” Miss Christi was taken aback by the vision. “You are a joy to behold.”
“Are you sure?” Catherine stopped dead in her tracks. “Hey, Gran. You look pretty awesome.”
“Yes. Thank you, dear.” Still dazed, Miss Christi twisted to catch her old self in the mirror. “I do have a little something left in the tank.”
“Huh? Hey, Gran, you sure I’m like, okay?” Catherine twirled. “I mean, for this place? You know, like, don’t I look a little too Pretty Woman in this.” She admired the young woman in the mirror, twisting to check her backside. “This skirt is a little shorter than I thought. You can almost see my—”
“Not at all, my dear. Don’t worry, kitten. We’re in the fashion capital. However, I wouldn’t drop anything, dear,” said Miss Christi, acknowledging the preteen status of Catherine’s eleven-inch micro mini. “Otherwise, I think you’re dressed most appropriately for this evening. I’m sure our dinner companions will find you most charming.” She stepped back to take in the view.
“Positively delightful! Do remember to stand tall, dear. Be the confident and respectful young woman I know you are. If you believe it, everyone else will too. Please don’t forget to keep those legs tight when you sit, dear.” Miss Christi pointed at the danger zone with her eyes. “Wouldn’t want to distract the help. Would we, dear?” She smiled then fitted Catherine into the much-cropped, biker-themed leather jacket. “Perhaps you might keep this on downstairs? I totally love the zippers too, dear.”
“Hey!” Catherine’s hands went to her hips. “What about the surprise?” She l
ooked like, Wonder Woman, standing there, that pose, those boots. All she needed was some rope. She sure didn’t look fifteen. “You promised.”
“Yes, yes. I do have something special for you, dear, to finish off your new ensemble.” Miss Christi moved to the table and returned holding an expensive-looking case, covered in black and red leather. She opened the velvet lined jewelry case, briefly admiring its contents. She giggled as she turned it. “Come see, my dear; let’s see if these fit.” Miss Christi held out her surprise.
“Holy shit, Gran!” Catherine’s brain halted. Her mouth opened. “Wow!” She took a deep breath. “I mean, sorry.” She took another breath. “Are those fucking real? There’re sick. I mean, those rocks are freaking awesome! You’re like, really going to let me wear them?”
Miss Christi held a case containing a matching arrangement, each piece crafted of twenty-four-carat gold and fitted with hundreds of diamonds.
“Whose are they? Where did you get them? They’re so beautiful.”
“Yes dear, a wedding gift from my Katherine. Custom crafted by Mister Harry Winston himself. She had them made for our wedding, a symbol of our special love.”
Catherine stood stiff, frozen by the jewels, valued in excess of a million dollars. The diamonds were of the highest quality, nearly flawless in both color and clarity. Brilliant color sparkled as Miss Christi lifted an earring and fitted it to Catherine. Old memories came alive as the diamonds captured the day’s last ray of sunlight. A billion dots of light danced about the room. It was like a dream. Was it a dream? She had diamonds too.
“I bring them out only for very special occasions.”
“You think tonight is one?”
“Oh, yes, my dear; a very special night. We are celebrating the first anniversary of Kristin’s Kloset.” Miss Christi adorned her with the jewels, the earrings, the bracelet, and then that incredible necklace. Katherine, “Would you do me the honor of wearing our wedding ring, my dear?”
Catherine stiffened. “Huh?” Before she could think, nightmare, Miss Christi had her hand out. She watched as the rings slipped onto her finger. “Hey, they’re a perfect fit. Fuck! That’s a big rock, Gran.” Shit. I said that.
