The Male Corsetier

INTRODUCTION

Jonathon Jones grew up loving breasts, being weaned late on a couple of beauties, a succession of nannies baring theirs for him after learning it kept him quiet and then later his older sister Robyn found Jonathon was capable of releasing unbelievable feelings within her by making her sweet pair available to him to play with.

The young guy's progress through school and high school was achieved distinction and he appeared to find it difficult to find and hold on to girlfriends, none of whom were interested in a guy passionate about their tiny tits.

At college Jonathon elected to take fine arts because he was good at drawing bicycles and buildings. The bossy art department head rifled through his private folder and found ten pairs of immaculately drawn panties and placed him into the all-female group who'd chosen to take clothing design as an optional study. The poor guy was humiliated, teased hugely throughout the college but that changed when fellow student Melissa someone pried and found in Jonathon's private folder a beautifully rendered sketch of a woman's pussy. Fellow students thought it would be his mother's but it actually was the woman who lived next-door who was teaching Jonathon the basics of life whenever her husband was out of town.

Almost overnight the guy's reputation at college soared as he began drawing pussies and dicks for $25 each drawing but her insisted on only single-person sittings. A number of the young woman gave him more that money but that was only to be expected at that age. After college he went to live with his grandmother in London and worked for an advertising agency sketching women's garments until being head-hunted by a company in Milan selling its brand of women's underwear internationally. Eventually Jonathon, now calling himself Paulo Piccoli, returned home to Houston, wealthy but bored and dissatisfied that women only wanted him for sex.

CHAPTER 1

Paulo (Jonathon) put his red Ferrari into storage and dressed in his snappy slim-fit suits rode around the city in his yellow scooter and soon became quite an icon, what with his lean looks, beaklike nose and flowing blond hair (when he'd left American it had been brown). He became isolated because he really didn't know how to talk to guys and shunned women who only wanted sex so that left only his mom and his Aunty Joyce to take an interest in him. Eventually poor Paulo decided to look for a job, something different.

"Paulo," said Joyce addressing her 33-year-old nephew as if talking to a piece of furniture because she wasn't into sex. "Three weeks without finding someone to hire you is a bit rich. A department store in the mall where I have my store is seeking a corsetiere. With your background you should interview for that position as a corsetier."

"Isn't that the same?"

"No, the male specialist comes without the final 'e'."

"Eh?"

"I said 'e'. It doesn't matter."

His mom performed her he-haw laugh and his sister, now married and who couldn't look at her brother without licking her lips, said if he required practice he could always fit her; her mother and aunt thought that was a great idea.

Paulo slunk off to the mall to try to pick up a woman interested in his intellect or his appreciation of renaissance art or expertise in Italian cooking. He spotted the discreet notice in the department store window advertising for a corsetiere and later after failing to pick up anything but a ten-dollar bill, went and applied for the position.

Red-cheeked and almost beside herself 21-year-old Macy rushed into her manager's office. Mrs Smith was bathing her feet, patted her purple hair and sighed, "What is it now dear?"

"We have an applicant for corsetiere."

Beth said, "Tell her to wait ten minutes. I wish to finish here."

Macy gurgled, "It's guy."

"Call security dear."

"No, no -- you don't understand. It is the cute Italian guy riding around on the yellow scooter. Everyone is talking about him."

"My friends don't even mention him."

"Mrs Smith -- he's the hottest fuck in town."

"Child, ease back on the language please." Beth thought for a moment and then waved her hand grandly. "Let's have some fun with him. Tell him I'll see him in ten minutes. No, we don't want him lining us up here. We'll see him in the showroom. Please stick very close to me."

Beth began very firmly. "Corsetieres are women."

"Did you make up that ridiculous assumption Mrs Smith? Several salons in Paris have males as corsetieres."

"You've made that up and Paul where is your Italian accent. You sound just like one of us."

"I was born and raised in Houston Mrs Smith. When I have clients I'll talk to them in my accent."

"This is America Paulo or whatever your real name is. My clients won't accept having their bodies felt over by a strange man."

"You could be wrong, very wrong Mrs Smith. I see you have been professionally fitted."

"How dare you look at me in that manner."

Paulo smiled and said Mrs Smith should be pleased a male looked at any part of her at her age. "Your bust line is classical, that of a much younger woman."

Flushing Beth said that was a lovely compliment but he really would have no idea about bras. I know, fetch me my near perfect fit off a display stand. The near perfect fit -- ignore color and style, straps etc."

Paulo didn't look at her chest again. He went to the stands and returned with an exact match of bra she was wearing, right down to same brand. In his other hand he carried a girdle that Beth knew at a glance was her size and preferred style.

"Most impressive Paulo but very fluky. Fetch back the best bra for Macy."

Paulo looked at Macy's chest and said, "Small, sweet, slightly upturned and narrower than average back. Don't runaway Macy."

"Mrs Smith, he described me perfectly."

"Yes, I know. This is amazing."

Paulo returned empty handed. "Bradstone's new Playgirl This Summer is perfect for you Macy. The clerk at the counter said they have been ordered but not arrived, as there's been such a rush on them. You have received one sample but she doesn't know who got it."

Grinning Macy pulled down her top.

"Macy."

"I'm covered and anyway Paulo is a professional Mrs Smith. This is Playgirl This Summer -- the best bra I've every worn."

"Stand tall but relaxed Macy, keep your top down and shoulders where you feel they are in normal position."

"Good girl, now turn around. This left-hand strap needs to be loosened a quarter of an inch."

"There -- how's that."

"I really don't think...oh yes I do. It's perfect Paulo. If you hire Paulo will he be permitted to play with my breasts Mrs Smith?"

"Play with them no, but he can give you daily fittings when we are not busy. I'm afraid after interviewing Paulo properly I'll have to refer his application upstairs to store management. I don't want my head to roll because I failed to consult over a controversial appointment."

* * *

Operations director Max Clifton said, "Okay Beth, he's designed bras and panties for one of the most highly regarded companies in Europe and he has looks and charm to burn and an incredible eye for size, shape and irregularities presumably and you told us how he choose for you and your youth buyer with unbelievable accuracy. So convince me over and beyond that why we should employ him?"

"Oh Max, I have nothing to tell you but my intuition tells me to go with him."

"I'm sorry Beth but..."

"Max, let's get him back in and see if he has the answer to your question," said Monique Parkinson, store general manager.

When Paulo entered, Max explained the situation to him.

"What, I answer that question to your satisfaction Mr Clifton and I am hired?"

"Yes. We are on the brink of taking a ground-breaking risk on you and I need to be satisfied that we can show the board if anything goes wrong that we..."

"Goes wrong -- are you mad?" Paulo said. "The first two weeks will be quiet until women I have fitted begin to talk to their girlfriends and within a month we'll be up and away and sales in our department will climb."

Max rubbed his jaw and said he'd been looking for compelling argument.

"Let's gamble Max, I have the feeling I believe in this guy."

Paulo looked at Monique's taut 34s and his palms tingled. He knew at that her interests transcended above sex. Was she married, going steady?"

Max scratched the back of his neck and said he was swaying.

"I'll cut that two-week hiatus to two days if I can have Mrs Parkinson to work beside me tomorrow afternoon and early evening and I then start work the following day, which is day one."

"Its Miss, not Mrs Parkinson Paulo. Tracy, can you work with him tomorrow as he's requested?"

"Yes, by re-arranging schedules. Welcome to our store Paulo. You might like to fit me out with a more comfortable bra."

Paulo said instantly, "Lace City's Lady Godiva" and gave the model number and size.

"Have you got that in stock Beth?"

"No, we order in and it will be here by 2:30."

Monique opened her bar cupboard and poured Max and Beth whiskies. She chose mineral water after Paulo had requested mineral water.

Max asked, "Won't you become tired of fitting overweight woman attempting to recover their youth Paulo?"

"Professionally I don't view them as females Mr Clifton -- they are just shapes and I'll attempt to fit them for comfort and enhance their shape a little towards meeting their desires. You must understand that once women gain weight they are aware unless they take drastic steps that's the shape they have to live with. They rely on corsetieres to reshape them a little and achieve that without discomfort. Then there are well-proportioned women who regard their bras as millstones and will come to us hoping to find relief. Then there are women with post surgery problems, birth defects and so on. It's a little like being a breast, tummy, hips and lower backside surgeon, only we don't cut and tuck."

"I see, so breasts don't mean anything to you, per se?"

"Mr Clifford, I adore great breasts and a well proportioned butt can also can raise my interest but professionally I keep that interest to myself. Think of me as being like a baker. A baker doesn't take his dough home to bed."

They laughed, making everyone happy with the decision.

As he rode down in the elevator with Beth she said, "Touching our clients is fine, Paulo, part of your job and you may feel obliged to go a little farther and they may wish to touch you. Just ensure I don't receive any complaints, huh?"

"I understand boss."

"Calling me Beth will be fine."

"Macy will want to lay you."

Paulo smiled and said she could be disappointed.

"Oh."

"I'm not interested in women who only want sex, no matter how sexy and how ripe they are."

Beth smiled and said it was reassuring to learn that.

In a café in the mall Paulo called Monique.

"Oh hello our surprising Mr Piccoli, please call me Monique.

"Thank you. Do you have a steady guy?"

"Yes."

"Who is a heart-stopper for you?"

Paulo heard her breathing increase. "I really don't..."

"I was wondering what kind of wedding gift to buy you, for backing me this morning."

She turned cool and said she didn't require a gift.

"Especially not from a strange man, a very strange man."

"I didn't say that, nor have I thought that. If you must know you rather interest me and that was a bigger surprise to me than it will be to you."

"Perhaps. Sorry to get you uptight in talking about you best buddy."

"Are you attempting to proposition me?"

"No, to apologize for my crassness and to talk about tomorrow."

"Look, I'm rather busy -- could we meet for a drink after work today??

Paulo grinned. "What will people say?" making sure the grin inflicted in his voice.

"Now that is bordering on being crass. I admit being interested in you, as a person, er, who is male."

"Goodbye Miss Parkinson. Sparrow's bar at 6.30. That allows you to finish at executive hours.

"How do you know about Sparrow's? It's not promoted, is fifteen floors up and is very exclusive?"

"I went through school from Grade Five and to college with Finnegan Bird and was one of the first to call him sparrow."

"What a revolting nickname."

"Schoolboy's humor. Girls don't understand it. But he sure was pleased to slip the noose of Finnegan."

She laughed and said he was funny and cut the call.

Monique turned up the air-conditioning. She'd heated up for some reason. This Paulo guy? Oh no, not a show. He was five minutes away from being a geek. Crass? He was absolutely...interesting. She couldn't believe she'd just thought that. Right, she'd give the guy one hour. Whoops. She better call Justine to say she'd arrive at his sports club gathering a tad late.

"Monique? What an opportune moment for you to call. Look, I'm not going to the sports dinner tonight. Something has come up."

Monique heard a squawk and a women's voice say, "Justine, you can't insert it and leave it unattended. Tell the bitch to get a life. Come on, let's fuck."

"Er sorry..."

Monique slammed down the phone. God, men were such creeps, so unfaithful and up themselves as well as anyone else who came along. Well, she was dropping him and that would make up for her being dropped by Freddie Bayer who'd decided he was facing a crisis about his sexuality. If women were more reliable than men she'd go back to licking pussy. Fuck the lot of them!"

Looking at the monthly reports she sighed. Lingerie had slipped another 8% in gross sales compared with the previous month and was 19.76% down on sales twelve months ago. She'd give it one more month and unless there was an upturn the department would loose half of its floor space to soft toys and confectionery and at least two sales personnel would have to be absorbed elsewhere.

CHAPTER 2

Sparrow's Bar operated not unlike a nightclub with a security guy at the door but entry terms were even more restricted.

"No single women allowed in," the bouncer growled, arms folded and looking ready to swat someone.

Monique lied brightly, "Oh I'm married."

"No hooker alone is allowed in."

"Oh, do they perform better in pairs?"

The teeth showed as the lip curled and the arm muscles now bulged. "Are you here to make a scene?"

A thin guy with patchy brown hair and a rat-like face with skin eruptions arrived alongside Mr Big Guy and asked, "Trouble Eric?"

"Single white female with big mouth and that's not all that's big."

"Now, now Eric, please be polite even to reject patrons. Your name please miss?"

"Monique Parkinson."

Mr Rat Face said that didn't ring his bell. Who was she meeting?"

"Paulo Piccoli."

Mr Rat Race broke into a big smile, showing surprisingly great teeth. "I've heard Johnbo was back in town. Please come in Miss. Champagne?"

"Johnbo?"

"Paulo Piccoli is better known in this city by his real name of Jonathon Jones. My name is Sparrow."

"Real name Finnegan Bird."

"That makes you genuine ma'am. Just Sparrow would be appreciated. God, it's a long time since I've been called Finnegan."

The big guy cut through the small talk. "Do I let Johnny in if he calls himself Paulo?"

"Yes Eric. Is there a difference?"

Eric scratched his shaven skull and said, "Huh?"

Monique thoughts the cops were about to raid the bar when all the women and a few of the guys stopped talking and looked to the door. She looked and saw Johnny, er Paulo, dressed in a light blue leather jacket over a lime green and yellow shirt, checked trousers and pearl ankle boots.

She swallowed.

Monique had expected to have two drinks, become bored listening to Paulo jaw, and then go home to an empty bed. Instead she had a great night, downing eight glasses of French champagne -- she was sure it was eight -- and was banged by Paulo in her apartment elevator. He just cupped her pussy without lifting her dress and she pushed the emergency stop button and was all over him like a whore expecting a big tip. Er extra money. After being beautifully kissed at her apartment doorway and being handed her panties, the louse had kissed her goodnight, saying he didn't expected Monique would lower her standards by inviting him into her apartment, not on a first date. He was back in the elevator, door closing, before she could think of a suitable reply.

Cups of black coffee next morning halved the pain in Monique's head and almost made her vomit. After that she felt much better. Leaving for the mall she found her panties just inside the doorway and recalled collapsing over them and crying because she'd wanted more sex but the buy had denied her, pulling a piece of bullshit gallantry that had bedazzled her. She retrieved one of her shoes embedded in the wall by the heel and remembered she'd been kicking her feet in a real fit of sexual frustration. Monique cringed in embarrassment, the picture of herself being held high, legs around Paulo's butt as he slammed into her against the mirrored wall of the elevator. Those images would have been captured on security camera. She decided to say nothing to management and hopefully the security cameras were only checked if there was trouble.

Eddie the doorman greeted Miss Parkinson with his usual smile smirked and said, "You were exercising late last night Miss Parkinson."

Oh God.

The cab driver even appeared to smirk into his rear vision mirror when he asked, "Been doing anything interesting ma'am?"

Oh God, the entire city knew! However when Monique entered the mall and everyone greeted her exactly as they did on other days she began to think perhaps she was not being regarded as the Whore of Houston after all.

At 1:00 as arranged by Paulo, she went to lunch when she was introduced to a lovely young lady with a bored face from the 'Chron'. Paulo began talking to her and slowly the reporter's invisible antennae went up and then she pulled out her phone to scream in great excitement for a photographer. When the newspaper cameraman arrived Paulo handed a waitress a twenty and she returned, looking a big floppy, and handed him a bra. Next morning a photograph of Paulo explaining the finer points of technology in bra construction to Monique and the equally big-busted reporter Susie Elk was on the front page under the heading: Uplifting News Flash: City Gets First Male Corsetier (corsetiere being female). The accompanying story was witty and written with style.

Operations director Max Clifton looking rather ruffled pointed to the huge photograph in his newspaper and asked Monique, "Give me the bad news, how much did this cost us."

"Not a send Max, it's considered hot news."

"What?"

"That's how its viewed Max and Paulo recognized that, not me. He took that reporter to dinner last night, at the newspaper's expense, because she'd doing a complete profile on him for the weekend edition."

"Christ, where is he? I must congratulate him."

"He has three radio stations to visit this morning and this evening he and I am appearing on 'Cityscope Hour' live and Brenda Hopkins herself is doing the interview and giving us half of the program time."

"Why would the Queen of TV take such an interest?"

"When her PA called me she said Brenda always is dissatisfied with her underwear. Brenda and a film crew are arriving at 1:00 to film Paulo fitting Brenda with a bra and a corset but he also intends introducing her to a bustier."

"What on TV?"

"Yes Max, don't we see ads of men in jocks every day on TV?"

"B-but Brenda is old, thirty five."

"Brenda lies Max, she's forty-one but even so still has a great body and Paulo says the late teens, the late thirties and the early fifties for the markets to go for, where the desires and needs are greatest."

Max sighed. "I'm out of my league here."

"Make an appointment for Lee and then watch Paulo fit your wife with a bra and panty girdle. I advise you to sit so you can cross your legs because watching Paulo's hands roaming sensuously over Lee's body could rather arouse you."