Chapter 1
Only an hour to go and Damon would be able to lock up his girlfriend Vickie's shop and get home for the evening. The LacyLady was a smart little boutique that was always quiet on a Tuesday evening and he had fallen into the habit of running it for a couple of hours so she could catch up on her bookkeeping chores without being interrupted by customers. He actually enjoyed hanging out in the shop as it gave him a perfect chance to ogle all the chicks that came in and he was more often than not rewarded with a few who liked being checked out by a guy as they paraded around in their skimpy outfits.
The shop was small and catered to a very select clientele; young women and college girls with great figures and the mind-set to flaunt them. When they wanted a dress to kill in, it was well known as the place to go. Vickie had an eye for the latest styles and knew how to push the envelope when selecting her stock. She loved outrageous outfits herself and put her clients at ease by looking so sexy while wearing them, both in her shop and when out clubbing.
Damon had met her in a BDSM club over a year ago, instantly attracted by her exhibitionistic style. Vickie was enthusiastically sexual and they soon moved in together and quickly developed a Dom/Sub relationship. Damon had financed the shop when they realized that their mutual love of revealing styles and lifestyle choices could be turned into a profitable as well as satisfying business.
The woman who stopped in front of the shop just as Damon was deciding to cheat the clock and close up early did not look like their usual customer. She was a little older than most and seemed slightly unsure if she was in the right place. Damon watched her looking at the window display from the sidewalk, her interest seemingly caught by a skimpy little red dress on the manikin. She studied it for a long minute before glancing nervously over her shoulder, then taking a deep breath and reaching for the door.
Once inside she hardly glanced at Damon as she began to tentatively pick through the first rack of dresses, her furtive, doe-in-the-headlights insecurity plainly obvious on her face. He watched her for a few minutes without saying anything, studying her carefully. She was definitely attractive in a mousy sort of way and there was little doubt that she had a good figure beneath her modest dress even though it was totally lacking in sex appeal.
"Looking for something in particular?" he asked her softly as she held up a lacy white sheath against herself. "We just received a shipment of party dresses that are just what you need for that special date."
The woman jumped, blushing slightly as she suddenly realized he was working there and was not just a bored guy waiting while his girlfriend tried on clothes.
"Uh, I'm just sort of seeing what's in style, now-a-days," she stammered. "I haven't worn anything like these since my sorority days and I'm afraid most of these are too risqué even for me, anyway." She blushed slightly and continued. "And I know my husband definitely wouldn't approve. He doesn't like my clothes to be too revealing"
"Forget him," he quickly responded. "You weren't thinking about hubby's approval when you saw that dress in the window, you were imagining how great you'd look in it." Damon looked her up and down, his eyes arrogant but appreciative.
"Actually, I think your husband should be shot for letting you go out dressed like you are now. You've got a great figure and should take advantage of it. You know what you've got and I can tell you're a woman who just needs to trust her own judgment more."
Damon knew instinctively she loved his compliment but was not used to hearing them from strange men.
"And that white dress you're holding is way too virginal for a great looking woman like you."
She blushed hotly and turned away. He could see her hands tremble slightly as she hurriedly put the dress back into the rack and he noticed that she looked like she was going to bolt from the store at any minute.
"My name's Damon, by the way," he said quickly. He stepped closer to her, trying to initiate a conversation and keep her connected. "What's yours?"
He stuck out his hand and she instinctively took it, meekly responding to his aggressive manner. She reminded him of a woman raised in a military family, one who was used to following orders.
"I'm Cynthia," she answered softly. She blushed again but suddenly blurted out, "But I've never really liked it."
Damon turned on his most disarming smile, still holding her hand.
"Okay then, I'll call you Sin for short and your hubby will never be the wiser." He squeezed, then slowly released her hand and continued. "Now, let's find that perfect dress to let you look like the woman you really want to be."
Sin demurely returned his smile and hesitantly followed him toward the back of the store. He quickly selected one of the red halter dresses he had seen her admiring in the window and held it up against her. The front was high and plain but the back was extremely low-cut, with its hem ending well above the knees. She squirmed slightly as Damon's eyes roamed possessively over her body, admiring the way it seemed to cling against her.
Sin glanced at the tag and knew it would probably fit, even though it was a size smaller than she usually wore.
"Try it on. You'll look fabulous in it," Damon urged.
Sin stood motionless, unsure of herself and the realization that she was alone in a strange shop with a man she had just met. His urging her to try on a dress that was so far outside her comfort zone made her feel weak in the knees. She knew she should back away and just say no, but a feeling of wanting to give in to his urging for such an intimate experience suddenly became overpowering.
Damon led her toward the small changing booth and stepped aside as he pulled the curtain open for her. He smiled again, waving her in with a toss of his head.
"I—uh, I don't really know if I should . . ." she stammered.
"This is your size, you've got the perfect body for it and it's about time you find out how hot you can look if you just give yourself a chance." He grinned conspiratorially, "Remember, you're a big girl and you don't need your hubby's permission, you know."
Sin glanced down at the dress, suddenly realizing how thin and clingy the material was. She tentatively held it up against her again, knowing she had never considered anything quite so daring.
"But, I just wanted to see what's in style," she whispered. "I wasn't necessarily looking for a dress like this."
She glanced at her reflection in the mirror and looked totally flustered. "And I definitely know my husband wouldn't approve."
