He led thewoman to an empty changing room, hoping he had shrugged off the feelingwithout her noticing and handed back the night-gown."If you would like any further assistance Miss, I shall be just here." Thank you," she said and pulled the curtain across, leaving it justshort of closed. Denis averted his eyes as he noticed the reflection inthe changing room mirror and could see her dress starting to fall away,exposing a cup of her delicately embroidered bra.He had barely turned when he heard the woman called for help."There's no room in here, can you hold this?" Certainly Miss," he said automatically and reached out to take herdress. It was expensive, light and silky to the touch, even nicer thanthe gown had been. The smell of her perfume ? expensive and headydrifted to his nostrils. "That's what I would wear if I were a woman too," he thought, blinkinganxiously for thinking such a thing.More sparks.Then came the bra."Er, Miss I..," he said turning a rather fetching crimson.. He saw her head swinging about as if to clear her head, he could see she was climaxing, her eyes rolling, her nipples pushing the bra outwards in two tiny mounds, a perfect target. Again, his arm swang, the leather aimed at those nipples, teasing him behind the white cloth, the leather striking as he had hoped, hitting first the nearest and then the second nipple with a loud smack, she slumped, held up by her wrists, the leather in fear of tearing into her wrists as her overweight body hung from her cuffs, he struck once more while she was out of it, struck her backside again, another purple line joining the two already there in a diagonal. The stroke fetched her back, he grunted two more, her imploring eyes said she wanted them and soon, knowing full-well, that he would give her the full measure. He struck again round her belly, she jerked and shrieked, then spun around her legs kicking high in pain as the last stroke landed across the other three welts, blood ran in a tiny trickle.
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