Pleasure in Control Ch. 06

Maria also upgraded my card to the next level.

"How many more levels are there?" I enquired. Maria looked at the computer display and then at me.

"Oh," she paused, smiling a knowing smile. "You have quite a few more levels to go yet, Julia."

I started to think that there are many more opportunities at Passionella, about which even Kirsten and E have not yet told me. I left the store feeling emotionally and physically drained. My experiences with Maria had assaulted all of my senses and my head was full of images and ideas. When I got to my car I sat quietly for a few minutes, collecting my thoughts. Then I furiously tapped at my keyboard, trying to be as objective as I could and noting a constructively critical assessment of the store, the displays of Passionella merchandise and 'their' employees. One employee in particular. (E had warned me against becoming emotionally involved).

I drove the hour-long journey to Glasgow and managed to find a parking space in the centre, even at 4:30 in the afternoon. I'd always wanted to visit one of the famous tearooms decorated and furnished in the style of that great early twentieth-century Glaswegian interior designer and artist, whose name escaped me. I just had time, before heading for the Passionella concession area in the central department store.

An average experience all round. Adequate stock, fairly well laid out. Polite staff with a friendly, approachable manner. But I didn't really feel like buying anything and, true to their training, the Dems didn't try to force anything on me either. I found a quiet corner to make some notes in my palm-top and finally left the store just before closing time. I headed back to my car, not relishing the 100-mile drive down to Carlisle for an overnight stop.

I arrived at the small but modern business hotel around 9:00, tired and bleary-eyed. It was tempting to climb into bed and leave my reports until morning but I knew that the detail would fade so I downloaded my palm-top into my computer and tided up my notes before I climbed into bed and fell straight to sleep.

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I was woken by the shrill warble of my alarm clock at 7:30 – I'd hoped to make use of the hotel pool to try out my newly acquired blue Passionella bikini, but I'd slept too long. Pity; I had been looking forward to seeing the embarrassed and licentious expressions on the faces of the pot-bellied sales managers who seemed to make up the bulk (literally) of the clientele at this hotel.

Back on the road to Sheffield, my last store before home. I'd wanted to get round all 8 stores in my first week to start to get a feel for the standard of service I could expect and to get to know a few of the Dems before the show on Thursday.

Sheffield was similar to Glasgow, a perfectly adequate but unexceptional experience. I did take particular note of one of the two Dems on duty though. She had a truly stupendous figure, even though her face was quite ordinary. Her breasts were, well, outstanding, I'd guess she's at least a 38D, and whatever bra it was she was wearing certainly made the most of them. Unfortunately, she was helping another client. Helen, her colleague, was pleasant enough and not unattractive herself. I didn't buy anything and did not reveal that I was a fully paid-up card-carrying Passionella aficionado.

I drove the last leg of my grand tour back to London, my head full of names, faces, store layouts, garments and experiences, some of which I would soon forget and some which would probably stay with me for some time to come.

I arrived at my apartment just before 6:00. Terri had obviously been in. Everything was spotlessly clean and tidy, 'just like home' in fact. In the bedroom I found two large boxes and from the labelling I deduced that these were my belongings from Claud's apartment in Paris. I had now severed all links with my previous life and I felt a huge feeling of relief and pleasure wash over me, confirming I had done the right thing.

I must have dozed off as I was lying on the bed still wearing my working clothes when my phone rang. I looked at the clock – 7:30 pm.

"Hi, sweetie, it's me. Have you missed me?" chirped Kirsten's pleasantly familiar voice with child-like enthusiasm. Kirsten is a real woman, but she loves to put on an act.

"Hi, Kirsten. Yes of course I have, babe." I tried to retaliate by using a horribly sugary term of endearment but Kirsten just lapped it up.

"I haven't been home long and I'm a mess. I've done so much and covered so many miles this week already I haven't had time to gather my thoughts. I'm hungry but I can't be bothered to cook and so the last thing I want to do is ..."

"... is to spend the evening alone and sulk. I'll be over in 20 minutes with Chinese. See you, bye." Click. I like a decisive woman.

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I hope you're enjoying my story in which I describe my world of voyeurism, exhibitionism, erotic lingerie, lesbian sex, bondage, mild female domination, and more. It is all (reasonably) consensual. I know it's quite drawn-out, but I like to tease – it's all part of the fun! In my next chapter you'll read about my first product launch and some of the really horny stuff that happened there.

Please write a review if you've enjoyed reading this chapter. Or send me an e-mail and tell me what you liked. I'll also try to let you know when my next chapters are posted.