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It had been a game hadn’t it: handing her the remote to play a trick on Zak. No that was days ago wasn’t it? Why hadn’t they traded places back again? She recalled how her mistress’ fingers had slid under her skirt while she cooed and reassured her. Those fingers were so deft, she read her mind and knew exactly what she needed: how to stroke, when to pull and where to pinch. She had been inflamed in the midst of her distress until her worries had melted away. The words of her mistress restored her calm, evened out her breathing and settled the rhythm in the rise and fall of her chest. This would make her more deeply servile than she could possibly achieve staying with them. She wanted to win the game didn’t she? Show that she could do this. She wasn’t going to admit she was defeated now was she? Well no, of course not. She would see it through, whatever it took to win. The plastic material stuck straight out and offered no covering. Only the thin scratchy red thong panty offered any. So I nodded. He took the book from me, shuffled some pages and stopped at one and showed me a back open model tied with laces. ‘This is the best model around in town as of today if you are willing to wear this type, it’ll accentuate your beauty’. He suddenly stopped. ‘I suppose you are married geetha madam…, he trailed off his sentence coated with concern. Still mesmerized by the model, I was replying absently ‘it’s the idea of my brother yashwant that I need to look my best on one of his special occasions’. That was enough encouragement for him and he said, ‘ leave the worrying to us and as I said, we will transform you’. He took the bag with new blouse from me with all the right without asking me and started inspecting the blouse piece and started at my boobs for a few seconds and remarked – ‘this one would be wonderful on you geetha madam.. Please come in. We shall take the measurements’. I stood up and noticed that he was taking a peek my navel through the pallu during that.
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