Forbidden Lace Part 2
The silence in Michaela’s office was a stark contrast to the open-plan hum outside. James stood just inside the door, his fingers nervously tracing the lace waistband hidden beneath his shirt. Every instinct screamed to run, but the sight of Michaela slowly circling her desk, that small, knowing smile still playing on her lips, rooted him to the spot.
“Close the door, James,” she said, her voice a soft command that left no room for debate. He obeyed, the click of the latch sounding like a gunshot in the stillness.
She didn’t sit behind her desk. Instead, she leaned against the front of it, crossing her ankles. “Now,” she began, her gaze drifting down his body with an unnerving focus. “Let’s see what else you’ve chosen for today. The lace was a lovely start. Did you match it with anything?”
He could only manage a shaky nod, his face burning. He was wearing a matching bralette, the delicate straps a constant, secret pressure across his shoulders.
“Show me,” she whispered.
Swallowing hard, his hands trembled as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt. The air felt cool against his skin as he let it fall open. Michaela’s eyes darkened, her breath catching slightly at the sight of the sheer cream-colored lace cupping his chest.
“Oh, James,” she breathed, stepping closer. Her fingers, cool and sure, reached out to trace the intricate pattern over his heart. “Exquisite. You have no idea how long I’ve been looking for a man who understands the appeal of such… delicate things.” Her thumb brushed over one nipple, and he gasped, the sensitive peak hardening instantly against the lace.
She chuckled, a low, husky sound. “You like that, don’t you? The feel of it. The secret of it.” Her other hand slid around to his back, finding the clasp of the bralette. “I want to see all of it.”
With a practiced flick, the clasp came undone. The bralette loosened, and he shivered as the promise of full exposure danced over his skin. Michaela didn’t remove it yet. Instead, she leaned in, her lips brushing his ear.
“You’re going to be so good for me, aren’t you?”
The command hung in the air, a velvet-covered whip. James stood frozen, his shirt hanging open, the loose bralette a fragile shield. Micheala’s gaze was a physical weight, pinning him in place. The playful smile was gone, replaced by an intensity that made his pulse thunder in his ears.
“My weekend plans just changed,” she murmured, her eyes drifting down his exposed chest before meeting his again. “We’re going shopping. Tomorrow. I know a lovely little boutique where the saleswomen understand discretion.”
James’s breath hitched. “Shopping?” The word was a squeak. The fantasy of being seen, of being chosen for this, was one thing, but the reality of walking into a store, of being measured and dressed under her watchful eye, sent a fresh wave of dizzying heat through him.
“For you, of course,” she said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She reached out, her fingertips tracing the lace edge near his collarbone. “This is beautiful, James, but it’s a secret you keep for yourself. I want to give you secrets we can share. Something black, I think. Something with satin straps that will feel like my hands on you when you’re stuck in a boring meeting.”
Her words painted a picture so vivid he could almost feel the cool slide of new fabric. The idea of wearing something she had chosen, something that would constantly remind him of her ownership, was terrifying and intoxicating.
He finally found his voice, shaky but earnest. “What… what would you pick?”
Micheala’s smile returned, sharp and delighted. “A chemise, I believe. Long, sheer, with a open panel right… here.” Her finger dipped lower, tracing a line down his soft stomach, making his muscles jump. “And stockings, proper ones, with delicate seams. I’ll show you how to fasten the garters.” She leaned in, her lips brushing his ear, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “We’ll play dress-up. Just you and me. And then I’ll see how every little piece looks on you.”
Her cool hand slid from his back to his hip, her thumb hooking into the waistband of his trousers. “But for now, I think we’ve had enough teasing.” Her eyes locked with his, the pale blue depthless. “Get on your knees, James.”
A shuddering breath escaped him. This was it—the point of no return. With trembling hands, he let his shirt slide from his shoulders, the last vestige of his professional armor falling away. Slowly, his heart hammering against his ribs, he sank to his knees on the plush office carpet, the soft wool a stark contrast to the hard, thrilling authority in her gaze.
The boutique was tucked away on a quiet side street, its windows displaying elegant mannequins draped in silk and lace. James’s heart hammered against his ribs as Michaela guided him through the door with a firm hand on the small of his back. The air inside smelled of expensive perfume and new fabric.
A graceful older woman with silver hair and a measuring tape around her neck approached them. “Madame,” she said with a slight bow of her head.
“This is James,” Michaela said, her voice carrying a new, proprietary tone. “He requires a complete fitting. Everything will be selected by me.”
The saleswoman’s eyes flickered over James’s nervous form, but her professional smile never wavered. “Of course. The private fitting room is just this way.”
Inside the plush, mirrored room, Michaela’s presence seemed to expand, filling the space. “Remove your clothes, James. Everything.” Her command was soft but absolute.
His fingers trembled as he undressed, folding his ordinary trousers and shirt with shaking hands until he stood before her in only the cream lace panties. The cool air raised goosebumps on his skin. Michaela circled him slowly, her sharp eyes missing nothing.
“Madeline,” she said to the saleswoman without looking away from him, “we’ll begin with measurements. Every inch. And then we’ll see about a chemise. Black silk, I think. And stockings—the finest you have, with back seams.”
The saleswoman produced her tape, her touch professional and impersonal as she began recording his dimensions. James flushed under the dual scrutiny, his skin tingling wherever the cold tape touched him. Michaela watched, her gaze possessive and approving.
“Such lovely softness,” she murmured, her fingers tracing his hip where the saleswoman had just measured. “This will be so much fun, James. You’re going to love what I pick for you.”
She leaned close, her breath warm against his ear as the saleswoman measured his inseam. “And I’m going to love watching you wear it.”
James stood before the full-length mirror, his body trembling under the cool, assessing gazes of both women. The black silk chemise Micheala had chosen felt impossibly light against his skin, the fabric whispering over his softness with every slight movement. The deep V-neck plunged dramatically, framing the swell of his chest, while the open panel she'd requested exposed the pale curve of his belly and the delicate lace of the matching panties beneath.
"Turn for us, James," Micheala instructed, her voice soft but firm. He obeyed slowly, his cheeks burning as the sheer back of the chemise revealed the dimples just above his bottom, the fabric clinging to every curve.
Madeline, the saleswoman, made a thoughtful sound. "The cut is perfect for his shape. It emphasizes his... softness quite beautifully."
Micheala stepped forward, her fingers tracing the satin strap where it met his shoulder. "Exactly. I want him to feel this every time he moves. To remember who chose it for him." Her touch drifted lower, skimming the open panel, making him gasp. "Now for the stockings."
Madeline produced a pair of sheer black stockings with a delicate back seam. Micheala took them, her eyes never leaving James's. "Lift your foot." He complied, balancing unsteadily as she rolled the first stocking up his calf, her fingers cool and precise against his skin. She fastened the first garter with a soft click that seemed to echo in the quiet room.
"See how that feels?" she murmured, her hand smoothing the silk over his thigh. "Tomorrow morning, you'll put these on before your trousers. You'll feel these straps against your skin all day while you work, knowing I picked them for you."
She attached the second garter, her fingers lingering near the sensitive skin of his inner thigh. James shuddered, his breathing becoming shallow. The combination of exposure and her possessive attention was overwhelming.
"Beautiful," Micheala whispered, stepping back to admire her work. "Now you're properly dressed. This is just the beginning, James. Every morning, you'll come to my office before work. I'll have your outfit waiting."
She reached into her purse and produced a small velvet box. Inside lay a delicate silver anklet with a tiny lock. "So you never forget who decides what you wear," she said, fastening it around his ankle with a definitive click.
Oh is he in for a ride 😋
That one’s hot too… The tension, and heat, ramping up gradually.