The Ice Queen Cometh Ch. 02

It was awkward to exit the car provided by the car service. When she did so at the door of the restaurant, she looked like a movie star, she was sure. More precisely, she looked like a movie star flashing the valet. She was sure her panties had peeked out from the slit of her dress, as she twisted to exit the car.

The doorman/valet of Le Paradis rushed to help her. He treated her with the reverence such employees lavish on the rich. She explained to the host that she was meeting the Mason party, and he led her to the table.

Mr. Mason and his client were already there. Mr. Mason used first names only, and introduced Jamie to his client, Miguel, from Spain. Jamie knew Spanish from high school and college, so she greeted Miguel in Spanish. They exchanged pleasantries in Spanish, before everyone switched to English. Mr. Mason, who told Jamie to call him Bob, did not understand Spanish, other than words like muchas gracias, da nada, and - of course - margarita.

Miguel, who appeared captivated with Jamie, explained in rapid fire Spanish that actually he was French, but Bob did not know that yet. Jamie switched effortlessly to French, and he and a surprised Miguel (whose real name was Michel) spoke for a minute or two in French. The evening was off to a good start, Jamie thought. She noticed that Miguel was staring at her breasts, and she figured her nipples had hardened from the air conditioning at the restaurant.

Jamie took her compact out of her purse, ostensibly to check her lipstick, but she really checked on her nipples. She was horrified: she (and anyone else) could see every detail of her boobs, including of course her nicely erect nipples, due to the way the silk clung to her boobs. Moreover, it was obvious she was without a bra, or for that matter any covering to her breasts.

Jamie blushed as she saw herself, but there was nothing to do. She did what she always did in such awkward and embarrassing moments: she acted confidently, and she smiled a million dollar smile of a blaze of headlights with her wonderfully white teeth.

Jamie needed a drink. Alcohol helped the pills work, Mike had told her, and she needed that extra help right away. The dress gave her courage, but tonight she would need more, especially with the message her prominent nipples were sending. She needed the pills to kick in.

"Bob" (as Mr. Mason asked Jamie to address him) seemed to read her mind, and the waiter instantly appeared at his command. Jamie did not know what to order, so she asked if there were a house cocktail. There was. She ordered it. The men ordered Scotch whiskeys.

The alcohol was helping the pills do their magic. Jamie could feel it. Now she could handle Miguel staring at her breasts. Mr. Mason, or Bob as he was now known, in contrast seemed to be avoiding looking at her. Good, she thought.

Mason had in fact already noticed the amazing allure the dress gave his pretty and sexy secretary. He found her irresistible, but he wanted not to show it. Tonight, he wanted to give her to Miguel, in order to win his business. He had to bide his time before he enjoyed Jamie's body in a fun filled Viagra fueled marathon that was his latest fantasy.

Jamie was thinking that Mason had seen more than enough of her the previous Friday. He had seen her naked. He had seen her having sex. Looking at her nipples poking at her dress could not be that tantalizing after the sex show he saw in person, only a week ago. The waiter came over to take their orders. She was the woman; she had to go first.

Jamie was outside her comfort zone. She wanted first to see what the others would order, so her orders would be appropriate. Consequently, she said she had not quite decided, and asked Mr. Mason to begin. He deferred to Miguel, who ordered the scallops to begin, followed by the rack of lamb. Mr. Mason ordered the Caesar salad, followed by the steak, "very rare, please." So, the men were having appetizers, and expensive main courses.

Jamie ordered the herring, and then the rack of lamb. That was when Mason made his first crude remark, referring obliquely to Jamie's rack, "which was far superior to that of any lamb's." Jamie kept her aplomb, and simply smiled. In her mind however she was her drink in his face.

Miguel and Mason talked business for a while, and Jamie took dictation. Every so often the two men would discuss how pretty and sexy Jamie was, and Jamie dutifully took down those remarks in shorthand as well. Just before the food came Jamie felt Miguel's hand slip through the slit of her dress and rest on her bare thigh.

Jamie shot a look at Miguel, but he was looking the other way, perhaps on purpose. She could not catch his eye. While she was deciding what she should do about this violation of her body, the waiters arrived with their appetizers. Miguel needed two hands, and his hand left her thigh. Jamie exhaled.

The food was good, and while they ate their meals, Miguel's hands did not visit Jamie again, nor was business discussed. Jamie relaxed. She enjoyed being in such a fancy restaurant, drinking such velvety red wine, and being ogled by the two men. The waiter refilled Jamie's wine glass at every opportunity. Jamie lost track of how much wine she drank.

The two men were actually fairly good looking, and each was only around 5 to 7 years older than she was. Mason had the reputation of being a sexist creep and predator, but if he had not been, well, that might have been a different story.

The conversation was wide ranging. The men discussed politics, including Brexit, Trump, and Marine Le Pen in France. Next, they discussed the state of the world's economy, and the problems in China. When the discussion turned to art, Jamie joined in, and soon it was only Jamie and Miguel conversing, since Mason had little to contribute.

Miguel was sexy, she had to admit, but she was not in his league. She did not have a chance with him, except perhaps as a floozy to be used in a one night stand. She sure as hell did not want that again. No more casual sex for her, she thought. Jason Jones and Mike had been quite enough.

The entertainment began, and the men turned to watch it, leaving Jamie alone to her thoughts. The woman dancing on the stage was beautiful, and as she gradually undressed, Jamie felt she was experiencing déjà vu. The woman's body was an exact copy of Jamie's! The woman had pasties over her nipples, and kept her panties on, when she was finished undressing.

Now she was simply undulating around, her luscious breasts swaying themselves with her movements. Jamie took out her cell phone and called her up her selfie where she was wearing only her panties. She looked from her cell phone to the dancer and back. Remarkable: they could have been twin sisters, at least from the neck down.

Suddenly her cell phone was grabbed from her hands. Miguel had it. Jamie blushed. The pills kicked in, and Jamie calmly said, "Quite a resemblance, don't you think? I mean, from the neck down." Miguel gave her a look that she had never seen before. If she had to guess, it would be a combination of shock, surprise, lust, and desire.

Miguel did not share the photo with Mr. Mason, thank goodness, but he gave it back to her. "Send me a copy?" he said, and he gave her his business card. "Yes, the resemblance is remarkable," he said. That ended it. She did notice, however, that he had an erection. Jamie allowed herself a smile.

The waiters came to remove the plates. Now came dessert, coffee, and possibly cognac, or some other after dinner drink. By the time the men had finished their cognacs, and Jamie had finished her glass of port wine, Jamie was drunk. The pills and the alcohol made her body seem on fire; she was a vixen, filled with desire. She knew she had to squash it, and squash it fast.

Miguel went to use the toilet. Mason used his absence to drop the bombshell Jamie had been dreading. Mason said to Jamie that she was doing great, and to continue by taking Miguel dancing. It seems there was a nightclub a few doors down, and Mason could get them in. First he would take them to the Harvard Club, where he was a member. Jamie could change there.

Jamie had brought the clothes Mason had requested, but she had also brought some sexy, but more modest clothes. She explained to Mason they would be more appropriate for a man as distinguished as Miguel. Mason understood, but looked unconvinced. They agreed she would model them for him at the Harvard Club.

Once the three of them were at the Harvard Club, they left Miguel ensconced at the bar, and Mason led Jamie off to an unused conference room. "Change here," he said to Jamie. Jamie waited for Mason to leave, but he did not. Finally she realized what he wanted.

"You want me to change right in front of you?" Jamie asked.

"Yes. Right here, right now, while I watch," Mason replied.

"Mr. Mason, we work together. You are my boss. I am not comfortable undressing in front of you. Perhaps you could leave me alone in this room to change?" Jamie said.

"Do not think of me as your boss, Jamie. Think of me as the man who can make, or can ruin your career," Mason said,

Freaked out a bit, Jamie nevertheless complied. That was the point, after all, of Mason dropping those photos on her desk with the pile of work; it was blackmail: Comply, or I'll ruin you. Now he had made it explicit. She felt she had no choice.

Thank God for those pills she thought to herself. The idea of changing in front of Mason repulsed her, but on another level, doubtless due to the pills and their effects, it titillated her. She would be stripping for her boss, upon his command. That is so disgusting. But just then, drunk and with sex on the brain, it seemed not just revolting, but also a salacious thing to do.

Worried about the rest of the evening after she changed, she quickly texted Mike, asking him what would happen if she took two more pills, given she had already four in her system. She also added a plea for more pills, as she was now down to two left.

Jamie faced Mason at first, giving a defiant expression. All he had to do was to raise an eyebrow and her defiance morphed into submission. At least she would turn around. She presented her back to him and she unzipped her beautiful dress. She felt like crying removing it, since it felt so nice, and she felt like a million bucks while wearing it. Without it, basically naked except for her panties, she felt like a whore.

She peeled her dress down, slowly and tantalizingly revealing her naked breasts. Mason saw her naked backside, and Jamie knew he could see the edges of her boobs even from directly behind her. He let out a low whistle. Soon she was only in her panties and her heels.

"Come here, woman," Mason said. Jamie slowly turned around, revealing her almost naked body to him. Mason got an erection as soon as he gazed upon her luscious boobs. Slowly, she walked towards him.

When she was almost touching him, he kissed her breasts while his hands ran all over her back. Jamie shivered. She was apprehensive, mentally disgusted, and sexually aroused, all at the same time.

His hands went under her panties, fondling her ass, and pushing her panties down. At this point she said, "No, please don't."

Ignoring her weak protest, Mason stuck a finger, then two inside her, and gave them a few pumps, before removing them. His fingers had found a wet welcome, as Jamie's body betrayed her attempts to resist. Jamie's breathing changed, revealing her arousal as she stood before him, helpless and trembling.

She felt like such a slut just then. She felt used, being forced into sex via extortion by her boss. How many other women over the years had suffered similar fates? Many, she was sure. That thought however did not help. She felt just then like a whore.

"Jamie, you are a fine woman. But our tryst will have to wait; we don't want to keep Miguel waiting for too long," Mason said. He released her, and asked her to continue to dress in her second outfit for the evening.

Jamie had brought the outfit Mason had told her to bring, the one she wore that fateful Friday night when he witnessed her having sex in a downtown park. But she included a more modest halter top, instead of the one she had worn that had been almost transparent.

In that top, with no bra, her micro mini skirt, and "barely there" panties, she looked sexy, but in a cheap way. It was in stark contrast to the elegance she had enjoyed in her Comme des Garçons dress.

The clothes and the situation made her feel like a prostitute. At least she was not as obscenely lewd as she had looked in the essentially transparent halter top. She wore a longer skirt, too. Now she looked nice, but still sexy. At least, that's what she thought.

"That's a different halter top," Mason said. His voice had a tone of disapproval. She had often heard that tone in the office, albeit usually with the other secretaries in the pool, since they occasionally made mistakes.

"Yes. Yes, it is different. The other halter top is provocative, and I doubt it would be tolerated in such a staid place as the Harvard Club. I think Miguel will like this one more," Jamie said.

"Hmmm. Perhaps you're right. Maybe I should invite him in and have you model both?" Mason said.

"No! Please don't, Mr. Mason. I would be horribly embarrassed," Jamie said. The idea however was making her wet. Her brain and her body seemed to be locked in a constant struggle.

"Well, try it on for me, at least. I want to compare," Mason said.

Jamie nodded, turned around once again to present her back to him, and quickly slipped off her halter top and put on the nearly transparent one, where every detail of her boobs was clearly visible through the fabric.

Now she looked not just like a whore, but she looked like a brazen whore, a street walker, she thought to herself. She turned around, slowly revealing her outlandish outfit to her boss.

"You look sexier in that than you do naked, my dear," Mason said. Jamie shivered again. "Do you feel sexier too when you wear it?"

Jamie shook her head no, thereby lying. "I feel ashamed," she said.

"Of course you do, my dear. You feel ashamed and sexy, both, I'll bet. Shame and sexy go together, don't they? Does it bring back memories of last Friday?" Jamie looked at her feet, and she nodded. "Let's go the whole route. Remove your panties, too. And change into the skirt I told you to bring."

Jamie's head snapped up, and her eyes got wide. "No," she said. "That's going too far. You're pushing me over the edge," Jamie said.

Mason laughed. "Suit yourself, sweetheart. I'll give you a choice: no panties with the more conventional halter top, or panties and the skirt I like, with the sexy halter top."

Jamie stood there, frozen. The skirt was so short flashing her panties was inevitable. Without panties, she would be flashing her pussy or her bare ass, or both. Not good.

The almost transparent halter top however cried out, "Hey look at me! I'm an exhibitionist hot to trot slut. Come get a piece of my tail!" Either way, she was screwed. Ironic choice of diction, she mused. Unless she was lucky, screwed might be exactly what was going to happen to her that evening.

Maybe if she were vigilant and careful, she could avoid flashing her pussy? With the halter top she would be constantly on display. She made her choice. This time she did not bother even to turn around. Facing Mr. Mason, and frowning, she changed back to the modest halter top.

Mason enjoyed the free look at her naked boobs as she changed. In the moment her naked boobs were facing him, he gave them a quick fondle. Jamie shuddered. "Are you forgetting something?" her asshole boss asked.

Jamie slipped off her panties and changed her skirt. She was blushing as she put her panties in her purse.

"That's a good girl," Mason said. "Give me a flash, and then let's go find Miguel."

Jamie turned around and flashed him her bare ass. She turned and stood. She felt like sticking her tongue out at him. That would be mature, she thought.

"Now flash me the front," he said. Jamie sighed. She had lost all resistance, and all of her pride. She picked up the front of her skirt and let Mason get a good look. "Touch yourself," he said. Jamie complied, and she continued to touch her pussy, eventually sticking a finger in, as Mason watched.

The idea of pleasuring herself while a man watched her, turned her on, even if by now she hated Mason. But the idea of fingering herself because she was ordered to do so by her boss really got her hot and bothered. She was getting highly aroused. Mason saw that, and he said, "That's enough. Woman, you are made for sex." Jamie nodded.

They left, heading to the bar and Miguel. When Jamie saw Miguel at the bar her entire face lit up in a smile, mostly because Miguel was not Mason. The effect of Jamie's thrill at seeing him again, plus her outlandishly sexy outfit, dazzled Miguel. His shock at seeing this pretty sex goddess and the quite obvious thrill on her part to see him, stunned the pleased Miguel.

Jamie quickly went to Miguel's booth and sat next to him, her bare leg touching his pants. "Why don't you leave us alone to enjoy the rest of the evening, Mr. Mason," she said. "You can see Miguel tomorrow, okay?"

Surprised, and clearly miffed, Mason was about to speak when Miguel said, "Don't worry, Bob. We'll be fine. I'll take good care of your best secretary, and get her home on time, I assure you."

Jamie gave Mason her best "innocent" smile. She had out maneuvered him, and she was clearly pleased. Mason wanted to show off his little sexpot. Nevertheless, he wanted Miguel's business more. But he did not completely trust Jamie.

Mason pulled Jamie aside. "I'll leave you two alone, but remember: I want you to keep Miguel happy. Do whatever it takes, even if you have to repeat what you did in the park last weekend. Do you understand?"

"I'm not a whore, Mr. Mason. I will not sleep with men so that you can make more money. You'll have to win Miguel's business some other way. But I will show him a good time. I certainly am dressed for it, thanks to you," Jamie said.

Mason nodded. They left the club, and Mason walked them to the nearby nightclub. It was not a night club, but a "gentlemen's club." He bid them goodnight, and he left. As he rode home in the taxi, he smiled. He was going to watch Mike fuck Jamie on the video Gloria gave him. Again.

He thought about the way Miguel had looked at Jamie, the way he had his arm around her bare midriff, pressing her luscious body against him, as they entered the men's club. He had even seen Jamie inadvertently flash her pussy as she bent over to fetch her ID from her purse at the club entrance. Miguel would have no problem fucking her brains out later that night. The thought comforted him.

As Jamie entered the club, snug within Miguel's strong but gentle arm, she saw it was raucously noisy and jam packed with people. All of these people up close and able to see her in her skimpy outfit gave her a fright. Worse, she felt her classic panic response rising in her chest.

Mike had not yet answered her text. She sent him another one with the address of the club., Then she decided to hell with it. She quickly downed two more pills. Mike's text came shortly after. It said, "An overdose is harmless, but you may lose all of your inhibitions for a while. Be careful. I'll see if I can get some more for you. If so, I'll bring some to the address you just sent me. And how about dinner this weekend?"

Jamie ignored Mike's request for a date. He would bring more pills with him, she hoped.

Mike was amused, since he knew the pills were placebos. Gloria was brilliant: It was all her idea. The placebo effect can be strong, he knew, but with Jamie it was remarkable! He was wondering what she would do now that he had put the idea in her very pretty little head that she would lose all of her inhibitions.