The Ice Queen Cometh Ch. 02

"Just this once, Jamie. Please? I think you're beautiful. Give me something to masturbate about for the next few weeks, okay? Maybe months, who knows?" Sam said.

Jamie was surprised, and a bit charmed, by Sam's frankness, his honesty, and also - and this mattered to Jamie - his lack of shame. He could admit to his neighbor that he masturbated thinking of her. How many men could do such a thing? She thought.

"Really? I get naked for you and you would masturbate over the memory? For weeks?" Jamie felt flattered. She loved the idea of men beating off while thinking of her. It did wonders for her self-image.

"You bethca," Sam said, in his best imitation of Sarah Palin's accent. It looked like he was getting somewhere with his floozy neighbor. "And I'll be good, too," he added, hoping it would clinch the deal.

"Promise?" Jamie said. Sam could not believe his luck. His neighbor was as naive as she was sexy. And pretty - let's not forget she is pretty, too! Sam silently thought to himself.

"Cross my heart," Sam said, and then sat down in Jamie's one overstuffed chair.

"No sex, Sam. Just looking," Jamie said.

Sam could not believe his luck. This was going to happen! Sam was speechless with excitement and anticipation, but he managed to nod agreement. A silly smile of anticipation lit up his face.

Jamie rose, and gradually, sexily, lowered her nightgown, exposing her breasts to Sam. He had a smile that would have made the Cheshire Cat jealous. By the time she revealed her boobs to Sam, Jamie was entirely turned on. She was already wet down there.

"More," Sam said. Jamie stripped nude. "Now dance for me, you little sexpot, you. Please"

Jamie walked to her Bose boom box and put on some music. She began to dance in front of Sam. He made several appreciative remarks. Jamie was enjoying herself. No question about it: the pills were still working. Boy, were they!

Jamie raised the stakes by rubbing her hands over her body. She played with her boobs, and teased her nipples until they were standing straight out, tempting Sam.

"How about a lap dance, you little goddess?" Sam asked. Jamie, now consumed with lust and power (those damn pills!), and reveling in Sam's clear adoration of her naked body, danced over to him. She spread her legs, giving Sam a sneak peek at her pussy, and she straddled him. She thrust her boobs in his face. He kissed her nipples as she ground her pelvis all around his groin, paying special attention to his clear erection underneath his pants.

She rubbed the prominent lump in Sam's pants all over her pussy, having his cock stimulate her privates through the rough fabric of his jeans. "Why don't you lose the pants? It will feel nicer," Jamie said, courting danger. She liked the risk. She indicated he should keep on his briefs.

Sam's jeans were off in a heartbeat. Jamie resumed her lap dance, now rubbing her pussy all over Sam's cock, as it poked straight up under his briefs. Sam's jeans had been too rough on her bare and sensitive privates, but the soft cotton briefs were just right. She was making them wet, due to her soaking pussy. Or was that Sam's pre-cum? Jamie was still too inexperienced to know.

They stayed like that, dry humping, both breathing heavily, until Sam decided to place his fingers inside her.

"Oh my goodness, no!" Jamie cried out. "Sam, I said no sex!" Sam ignored her protest, and he continued. Jamie groaned. God, it felt nice. Jamie next began to moan. She was enjoying being fingered by a man; it was a rare occurrence in her previously hopelessly chaste life.

Suddenly she woke up to reality. If she let this continue, it would inevitably lead...well, she knew where it would lead.

Suddenly Jamie rose from Sam's lap. Her naked body quivered in front of Sam as she exclaimed, "What are we doing? What am I doing? I'm sorry Sam but you have to go! Now."

Jamie decided to return Sam's honesty. "Sam, you are too good. You got me much too turned on. I'm not ready to have sex with you. Another time, perhaps? You have to leave now so that I can save myself. Please, Sam."

Jamie stood up, naked, and pulled Sam to the door. "Kiss goodnight, and I'll go?" Sam said.

Jamie nodded, and she leaned in to kiss him. It was their first kiss. Jamie thought it strange that Sam fingered her first, and was only now kissing her. Wasn't the order supposed to be the reverse?

Sam grabbed her, pulling her into him, and kissed her back. As they kissed, Sam ground their bodies together. Jamie's body melted into his, and she groaned softly. His hands once again found her pussy, and entered its soaking wet depths. Jamie groaned, but did not stop him. She was now turned on in the extreme.

Finally, in a fit of prudence, she pushed Sam away, thanked him for the nice time, and slammed her door. She heard him laughing in the hall, while her body literally heaved, breathing deeply, leaning against her front door. "Those pills are dangerous," Jamie said to nobody. Her words echoed slightly in her empty apartment.

Sam was thinking about Jamie. She had said, "another time." He really wanted to lay her. He needed a plan. But first he needed to get himself off. His hard on was not going to go away of its own accord. He headed for his bedroom.

Jamie concluded the pills were still working. Boy, were they! She confirmed the messenger had left the building, and that Sam was back in his own apartment. Jamie opened the package; she was dying of curiosity. Inside was a USB Flash Drive and a note.

The note said, "Jamie, you will find this upsetting. When you view it, first disconnect your computer from the Internet. For example, turn off your wi-fi feed. I found it on your friend Gloria's computer. It would appear she is not the friend you think she is."

The note continued, "I am working on the connection with Jason Jones, from Chicago, and hope to have more in the morning. You have been set up. Be careful. And by the way, if you are like Anna, you will ask if you look good in the video. Speaking as a man, you look amazingly beautiful and sexy, both. Anna does not know about this video. It is your decision to tell her, or not. Nobody knows about it but me, and whomever Gloria chooses to tell. Yours, Paul Howard."

Jamie sat there in shock. She read the note three times. She got out her computer, turned off the wi-fi connection, and she plugged in the flash drive. She watched the entire video of Mike fucking her in the park. She did look good, she thought. The camera was kind to her.

She had watched tons of porn, to be prepared when and if she conquered her nudity phobia, and even by porn standards, she looked good. She also thought to herself what a nice cock Mike has, as she watched it disappear inside her and re-emerge, time after time after time.

She was aroused by the video, but so horrified by its existence that she felt nauseated. When the video ended, she ran to her bathroom and vomited in the toilet. Later that night, she sent a brief email to Paul, thanking him for his efforts on her behalf, and for having found and sent to her the flash drive. Then she tried, largely unsuccessfully, to sleep.

She knew she had to go work. She had to face the music. Had she called in sick, it would have been a sign she was ashamed and vulnerable. She was in fact ashamed and vulnerable, even horrified and completely humiliated, but she knew enough to know she could not show it. She would act as if things were "business as usual."

Jamie showed up for work on time, looking lovely as she always does, with her bright smile and cheerful, giggly demeanor, and wearing her standard business attire. This time she chose her most armored outfit. All flesh was hidden, and while her blouse was tight, it was not too tight.

She got right to work. There is always plenty to do on Mondays, as lawyers rack up billable hours at home over the weekends. She was getting things done at a good clip, and the pleasure of accomplishment helped to distract her from her worries of the probable consequences for her actions the previous Friday night.

To her great surprise, and to her even greater relief, nothing happened. It was a normal, typical workday. Gloria was out sick, and Jamie was relieved she did not have to face her. Mr. Mason came by and gave her work to do, but he acted normally and professionally. Jamie was surprised, but even more than that she was elated. Maybe there would be no consequences? Maybe everyone was more professional, and much better people than she suspected?

Three more days continued like that. Gloria returned on Tuesday. Jamie and Gloria went out to lunch together. Jamie told her about Mike and their date, because that's what she would have done if she had not been suspicious. She confided graphic details to Gloria, since she knew that Gloria anyway knew everything already.

She hoped to make Gloria feel guilty, once she saw how much Jamie trusted her. Plus instinctively, she did not want Gloria to know she suspected her. She was dying of curiosity as to how on Earth Gloria could have had such a video of her and Mike doing the nasty in that park, but she managed not to ask. It was not easy, but she did it.

Still, she just could not imagine how such a video could exist, and it was even more strange that Gloria, of all people, had it.

Friday her life began its descent into workplace hell. Mr. Mason finally revealed his true Roger Ailes nature. He came to her to give her some more work, and Jamie smiled at him happily. She was still thrilled that he was not trying to hit on her, or otherwise to exploit her momentary weakness.

After all, Mr. Mason had watched when she had flamboyant and loud sex with Mike in the park. He had seen her naked. He had caught her in flagrante delicto. He doubtless had copious cell phone pictures of her naked, and of her having sex.

But this time the bundle of work came with a glossy 5 x 7 photo on it. It was a close-up from the video Paul had found on Gloria's computer. You could plainly see Mike's cock halfway inside her, and Jamie's body was revealed in all of its glory.

Does this mean Mr. Mason has access to the video, too? Jamie was stunned, and - frankly - scared witless.

Jamie's face was turned towards the camera. She was smiling a smile of unabashed lust while she was being exuberantly fucked. Waking her from her state of shock, Mr. Mason said, "I'm entertaining a client tonight, and I need you to join us and to take some dictation," he said.

It was not normal to ask a secretary to work in the evening outside of the office. But giving her that picture made the not normal request also not optional.

Jamie recovered from her shock. She quickly hid the photo. Without hesitation she said, "Yes, sir."

Mason said, "Good girl." He had never called her "girl" before. Before that moment, it had always been "Ms. Cappiano."

"Come via our car service, and be at the new French restaurant Le Paradis at 7:30pm, sharp. The dress is elegant, but bring a change of clothes for later. I liked the outfit you wore last Friday when we ran into each other, for example," Mr. Mason said, allowing a small smile.

Jamie simply said, "Yes sir." She promptly got busy reserving herself a car. "Sir?" she quickly asked Mr. Mason as he walked away.

"Yes, Jamie?" he replied, turning around. He now suddenly called her by her first name, for the first time ever. Jamie knew this meant trouble.

"May I leave work early? I do not yet own clothes appropriate for an elegant French restaurant. I will need to go shopping," she said.

"Of course, how silly of me. Here is my Saks charge card. Pick out something elegant and sexy. Don't worry about the price. We want to impress this client. He can give us some lucrative business," Mr. Mason said.

Mr. Mason now gone, she remembered she had read a review of the new restaurant Le Paradis. It was not a normal restaurant. On the weekend, there was live entertainment, and according to the review she read, the entertainment was not limited to music, but included scantily clad women dancing on a stage.

She thought it was a strange choice for a business dinner. It was also strange to include her "to take dictation." Clearly something else was intended for her; something sexual. She was in big trouble.

Jamie left after lunch. She went directly to Saks Fifth Avenue. It was easy to find elegant, sexy clothes, since her body seemed to be the template designers used. But she was not as tall as designers seemed to want her to be. There was no time for alterations, however, so that limited her choices.

Fortunately, traditionally the Japanese are shorter than the French, Italians, and Americans. She found a dress by the Japanese designer Comme des Garçons that was perfect.

The dress was a luscious silk that hugged her body, showing off all her curves. It was long and had she been even one inch shorter the dress would have had to be shortened. It covered her completely, but the way it clung to her body made it sexy. It went up to her neck in front, but was backless all the way down to the tip of the crack of her behind.

The dress had a slit on the side almost up to her waist, which permitted her to walk, while giving the casual observer tantalizing looks at her thigh flesh. The problem with the dress was that it truly was best without a bra. Jamie figured she could last 3, maybe 4 hours without a bra before her boobs began to sag and, more importantly, began to hurt. This was the curse of having large boobs.

When she saw the price tag, however, she began to hyperventilate. She knew Mr. Mason had told her not to worry about the price, but could he have even imagined such a price? The saleswoman inadvertently calmed her down, saying that since this dress was so expensive, and since she had no formal connection to the charge card, they would have to call Mr. Mason for approval.

Jamie dumbly nodded. She was glad: This way she would know if he were willing to spend so much money on a dress for her to wear for one evening.

He approved it! Who was this client, anyway? Could a play to get his business really be worth over $7,000? And what was going to be expected of her, other than looking pretty, and taking dictation? Nobody pays $7,000 for a dress to wear in order to take dictation. To say she was nervous would be a huge understatement.

Jamie's face turned white at these thoughts. She appeared to be in so much distress that the Saks saleswoman was worried she would faint, and asked Jamie if she needed a chair, or a glass of water? Jamie felt a panic attack building, and she said yes to water, and she took two more pills from the litter brown bottle.

Jamie sat in a chair in Saks. The chair was plush and comfortable. It was nicer than any chair she owned, she idly thought. The pills gradually worked their magic, and after ten minutes or so she felt better. Actually, not only did she feel better, she felt to hell with these men: She could handle herself.

Nevertheless, she ruminated that Mr. Mason wanted to entertain an important male client. He wanted her to come along, He wanted her to look sexy. He had seen her behave like a wanton slut only a week ago. What else might he want from her? She shuddered at the thought.

She went home with her new dress. She modeled the new dress in her full length mirror. Every detail of her boobs was revealed, right through the clingy silk. She modeled it without panties, too, and one could just see a shadow caused by her dark black pubic hair. It looked very sexy, and it looked better and sexier without panties. She knew however that she would wear panties.

There was no point in being too slutty. The dress conveyed more than enough of that, all by itself. The message it sent was loud, and it was clear. She needed to be careful. She did not want to give the impression that she was a slut and was available for sex. She was not.

Jamie took two more Dyrenatrene pills. She now had only two left. She poured herself a generous glass of a nice French Chablis. She brought it with her to the bathroom. She took a hot bath. The bathwater relaxed her, as she waited for the pills to kick in. She hoped the pills would help to give her the courage she so sorely lacked. She needed all the courage she could muster in order to face the evening ahead of her.

She packed too the clothes Mike had given her that fateful night. She felt she had no choice but to do so. Mr. Mason had given her a second picture just before she left. In the second picture she was dressed in the "fuck me - I'm a slut" - clothes, and Mike was lifting her skirt, showing off her milky white, bare ass. "Bring this outfit along, Jamie," Mr. Mason had said.

Was he sending her a message he wanted her to go without panties? Did he want a private showing of her naked ass? Or did he want her to give one to the prospective client? None of this was she willing to do. She knew that, but did Mr. Mason?

She sat in the bath, thinking. Who was this client? And was she to wear her whorish exhibitionist outfit for the two of them, the client alone, or Mr. Mason alone? Was she to take dictation wearing it?

Finally, she let herself think the thought that had always been there: Was Mr. Mason planning to whore her out to win business? Did he really think he could? If he did, he was in for a big disappointment. She was ready to quit her job, if necessary.

Or perhaps just as bad: Did Mr. Mason want to use her for his own sexual pleasure? Maybe taking those pills was not a smart move. They let her be exhibitionist, but if last Friday was any indication, they removed too many, indeed way too many, sexual inhibitions.

Mr. Mason was kind of sexy, she thought. The idea of being forced to fuck her boss kind of turned her on, too. God, that's an awful thought, she yelled at herself. Shame on me! The idea of fucking a client to win his business disgusted her, but it also strangely turned her on. Double shame!

Well, too late now, she thought, as her hands sank under the water of her bath, heading for the area she imagined Mr. Mason wanted to explore later that very night. The idea was so forbidden to her that it easily drove her to a quite pleasant climax.

After the bath, she dressed. She looked at herself in the mirror, wearing nothing above the waist, and just her "barely there" panties below the waist. She was so impressed she took a selfie to remember her look.

She never could have taken such a a selfie before she started taking these magic pills. She slipped on her silk evening gown and she felt as if she were a beautiful actress dressing for the Oscars. She took a second selfie of herself in the dress.

She wanted to share her new look with someone she trusted. Only one person was left. She sent the selfie to her sister. Belatedly she realized she had sent her sister the one where she was only in her panties! Quickly she sent her the one in her green dress, and asked her to delete the almost naked one immediately.

Her phone pinged. "You look great in both pictures!" Anna wrote. Jamie's heart sank when she read Anna's next text. "Paul agrees. Now I have to take care of his crotch. There's a lump in his pants and he says it makes him uncomfortable. Going off line."

The dress gave her a sexual confidence she had always lacked. She looked ravishing. Wearing that dress, she felt she could conquer the world. She looked again at the selfie of herself just in panties. Yes, she was going to conquer the world!

Part II: The Dinner

Her nipples were still warm from her bath, and they were as small as they ever are, but she still saw traces of them poking at the silk. The silk dress rubbed her nipples as she moved. She knew that soon the stimulation would make them erect and proud.

She pulled on her panty hose, wishing she had thought to buy thigh high stockings. She did not like the look, nor the feel. She wanted the sensuality of feeling the silk on her legs. She wanted to feel it especially on her upper thighs. Jamie decided on no hose. She would go with bare legs. It was better. She added high heels, and she was ready.