Chapter 02
Miss Grant relaxes at home
After a hot soak and a satisfying session with a vibrator, May felt comfortably relaxed. Sitting up in bed she read through William's essay. There was something interesting about his writing, even in a dull subject like, 'Therapeutic Hypnosis'. She re-read it, trying to find what it was that made her bring it from school, to read at home.
She had a vague feeling there was an underlying message in there somewhere. Her knowledge of psychology was poorer than she wished, yet continued reading it. She re-read a certain section, which became firmly embedded in her subconscious, though she was totally unaware of it.
"I must be tired, I'm not taking it in," she murmured.
While re-reading the paragraph, her eyes closed, and the sheets of paper slipped from her fingers to flutter onto the floor. Falling into a deep sleep, she muttered something about William, and how well he was helping her. She turned over with a pillow cuddled in her arms.
"William will help me do the right thing. He writes so well, I need to take notice of his words," she murmured, in her sleep.
Waking up Saturday morning, she slipped into the usual routine of, showering, breakfast, tidying up, and cleaning. Working at home naked, while carrying out the usual chores, no longer bothered her. A pleasant feeling of being cared for left her happy, as though someone were helping her in everything she did.
The old comfortable underwear seemed too shabby to wear. She tried on the new sets, only to find them itchy and uncomfortable. At last finding a comfortable bra, she pulled on a dress, ready to go shopping. Not wearing panties outside felt disconcerting for a moment. A sense of freedom replaced the discomfort, and she continued walking from the parking lot.
Browsing through a supermarket, she couldn't help noticing men glancing at her. She had always been susceptible to attention, though never comfortable enough to seek it. As a child she enjoyed being the centre of attention, though that stopped when her bust started developing. It was then she started covering up. Recently though, attention from afar made her feel wanted, and brought with it a greater sense of self-worth.
She walked around in a nice warm glow of well-being. The groceries were being delivered, so she was free to shop for a present. Something nice for herself was deserved. Ending up at the wicked shop, as she called it, some underwear was selected; two half cup bra's. They held her breasts up without covering the nipples, which seemed very daring.
"I can't possibly wear them, so why buy them?" she murmured.
Nevertheless she kept hold of the bra's, while wandering around, looking for the perfect present. A skimpy top with a short skirt were looked at, and dismissed.
"With my figure I could never wear that," she mumbled, to herself.
Nevertheless, in a changing room she tried on the things selected. "This is silly, I can't wear it. It's rude," she muttered.
Despite thoughts of disapproval, May turned to the each of the three mirrors, admiring the look. She wished she could bring herself to wear such an outrageous outfit. A loose top would cover her large breasts, and a less revealing bra was needed. In the wicked store, she couldn't find anything suitable.
"That looks good on you," the assistant said, with a cheery smile.
"Do you think so? Not too trashy?" May nervously asked.
"No! Go for it girl. You look great. I wish I had a figure like yours," the assistant encouraged.
It was true, she envied May's curves, though the outfit revealed too much for her taste. The customer is always right, she heard the manager lecture in her head. A sale is a commission, was a more important phrase to her.
It felt as though she were at war with herself. On the one side she resisted the outfit as being trashy, while some inner voice ordered her to relax, and do as she was told. Who was telling her to wear something outrageous, other than herself, desiring to let go of outmoded inhibitions? The assistant's praise tipped the balance, and the commanding voice won.
The assistant watched the stupid woman totter out of the store, and laughed. She had talked her into buying the most expensive items, to earn a decent commission. Selling one of those expensive toys was a joke, but the handbag would be very lucrative. Wearing the outfit at a Halloween party would have been daring, but in daylight, the woman looked like a slutty Barbie doll.
May clip-clopped out of the store on high heels, wearing bright pink. Her breasts were pushed up on two plain curves of reinforced cotton, fitting neatly under them. The t-shirt revealed her naval, and prominent bumps of nipples. It clung to her breasts as though desperate, on the edge of a precipice, gripping onto twin peaks.
The skirt was hardly noticed under the blatant display of a large pair of breasts. It wasn't much to look at. Not much of it to notice. Just a small tube of stretchy material. The skirt had to be worn low over the hips, or not cover her bottom. In such a tiny skirt a decent pair of panties had to be worn.
May hadn't worn panties when leaving the house, and she hadn't bought a pair in the store. It was a good thing it wasn't a flouncy flared skirt, otherwise her bare bottom would have been revealed with every step. Instead, it cut tightly under both cheeks, and between them.
May had a long walk to the exit, and she could already feel the skirt riding up at the front. She dare not carry on walking, or her naughty bits would be seen. Not a single whisper of a thought crossed her mind, about buying panties. Instead, she quickly, or as fast as possible on such high heels, made her way to a salon.
"I need to, err, do something about down here," May timidly spoke.
"I see," the woman smirked. "I can fit you in right now."
Darleen looked the woman up and down, assessing how much could be made out of her. It was slow this morning, so she needed the business.
The wax treatment to her pussy was painful. Darleen kept up a reassuring patter of talk, telling May it had to be done.
"You look so smooth and clean, just perfect," Darleen reassuringly smiled. "You must have the nails done. A glossy pink will go well with the outfit. Leave it to me, and I'll have you looking wonderful," she smoothly persuaded.
