Just Passing (Part 1)
By
Skinnie Stallion
Michelle squirms in her heels, her shiny red 6” heels, and presses her back against the wall. She tries to catch her breath. It’s difficult when the buckles on her dress are so tight . She glances to the side and down to check that nothing is visible through the doorway. She can just see the tips of her new courts over her embonpoint cleavage so wonderfully accentuated by the sculpted corseting of her dress. She loves these shoes almost as much as the dress but her day is turning into a nightmare. At least she’s sure Janine hasn’t seen her yet. Yet. Perhaps if she slips out the backdoor she can escape. Michelle wonders if she’s been stupid or delusional. The day seemed to have started so well. Her mind replays the morning while she ponders what to do……
Michelle is walking down the high street. She’s only nipped out for a few bits and bobs: collect her dry cleaning, a pair of shoes to the repairers for new heel tips, some flowers to take round to Auntie Meryl at the care home. She cuts up a side street to get to the repairers and passes a store with a bright window display. She’s surprised she’s never noticed it before but it’s probably because she doesn’t usually come this way. It’s where the expensive shops are. Not her territory.
A polished black mannequin in the window catches Michelle’s eye. It’s decked out in an exquisitely tailored short black cocktail dress. Michelle likes the styling and reads the panel: ‘Cocktail Dress by JaneStyle, £599’. Michelle gasps, not just at the price but at the shiny finish of the dress. It looks like it’s made of some tight, stretchy rubber. Further along another mannequin is clad in a short, black leather biker jacket but coupled with glistening red PVC pants and red ankle boots with dagger heels. She looks beyond the display deeper into the store. This isn’t just some strange fetish boutique, it looks like a proper department store. She can see the beauty counters laden with make-up and perfumes. She can see racks of shoes and boots. And then her focus returns to the window display. Next to the biker, she spots a very pretty mannequin with blonde hair wearing a sensible pink blouse although coupled with a very short, white mini-skirt and high heels. Michelle pauses, transfixed by the beauty of the model and then steps back almost slipping off the pavement when the model’s eyes move and it beckons to her. It’s not a model; it’s a real live girl.
Michelle is intrigued. The girl holds her eye and beckons again. She finds the invitation hard to resist. The girl steps down from window plinth and crosses the floor of the store. She opens the shop door and greets Michelle: “Hello, my name is Charles or Charlie but everyone calls me Pixie. Welcome to Bergman & Knightley. Is this your first time with us?” And so it began.
Michelle can’t understand. Did the girl really say Charles? Whatever. She must have misheard. Pixie will do. Michelle finds herself following Pixie round the store. Pixie shows her different racks and displays. Michelle is sceptical: she can’t imagine herself wearing leather, let alone latex or PVC. Pixie isn’t perturbed. She offers her opinion to Michelle on what she thinks will suit and what won’t. She encourages Michellle to take different items to the changing room to try. For Michelle, it’s like having her very own personal shopper. Michelle feels special; she feels pampered and cared about. If only Mr Carberry treated her like this.
Michelle is entranced by a red latex dress with a buckled corset waist. Pixie encourages her to try it on. Michelle attempts to resist not least because of its £870 price tag but Pixie is persuasive. Michelle feigns resistance but temptation is too great. Pixie leads her to the changing room. Michelle steps out her twin set and squeezes herself into the dress. Michelle had asked for a Size 14 but Pixie insisted on her taking a Size 12. Michelle looks at herself in the changing rooms mirror. She guesses Pixie was right. The dress is meant to be figure hugging. Size 14 might have been a bit slack. Michelle likes the look. It brings out her curves. Her twin sets don’t do that. She likes her curves. Mr Carberry might like those curves.
While Michelle is admiring her look, a pair of shoes skitters underneath the door and across the changing room floor. Pixie has been busy. It’s a pair of shiny red stiletto heeled courts. “I can’t wear these. The heels are way too high,” Michelle calls through the door.
“They’re only five inches,” replies Pixie. “I wear five inches all day.”
“But I normally only wear flats or two inch heels,” protested Michelle. “Sensible shoes.”
“I’m sure a lady like you can take five inches. I like a good five inches myself and six or seven in the evening.” Michelle assumes Pixie is referring to heel heights but isn’t sure. She is a very pretty girl. Did she really say her real name was Charles? “Just try them on and see how they look,” calls the girl from the other side of the door.
Michelle tries on the courts. The heels are transformative. Michelle stands tall. Suddenly the dress is more than a dress. She loves the corset fit and the way it makes her stand straight with her breasts cleavage prominent. The buckles on the corset making her feel powerful.
“Come out,” calls the Pixie. “Let me see.” Michelle obliges. “I think we need to go to the check out,” says the Pixie. “There’s no need to change back. I’m sure you’ll want to wear the dress when you leave. Then I can go back to giving Henry a rub down. He’ll feel I’ve been neglecting him. All night in the window and no one to relieve him.”
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