The Image by Jean de Berg

Author:Jean de Berg
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Erotica
ISBN: 9781908694249
Publisher: Elektron Ebooks

“This is what I mean, you see...”

The pretty salesgirl stared at me in amazement, finally, and then turned her glance to the smooth, firm flesh I was showing her.

“Yes, I see,” she answered simply.

I asked Anne to hold up her dress herself while I explained the intricacies of lace ruffles hiding the elastic, using both hands to stretch them out in my demonstration.

“Pull your dress up higher,” I told her, “and come closer to the light.”

She obeyed me immediately. The girl, who had been leaning over to watch, had plenty of time to note that her young client wore no panties. She must even have been able to smell the penetrating perfume Claire made Anne put on her blonde pubic hair.

While Anne was getting undressed to try on the garter belt and the bra in the fitting room, I stayed outside with the salesgirl talking about the weather. She entered quite freely into this most ordinary conversation, but her expression still had something bemused, and curious, about it. I saw that we could go further.

I turned toward the fitting room:

“Hello, are you ready yet?” There was no answer.

I went on, in a benevolent, fatherly tone:

“Well, now, let’s come have a look at you...” and I headed for the closed curtain which I opened to join Anne.

She was quite charming, all in white. She had on only the new bra and the garter belt, each more delightfully immodest than the other. I pulled her close to me to kiss her.

After a few moments I decided to call the sales girl. I stuck my head out between the curtains:

“Would you mind coming here for a minute, please?” She came over smiling bravely, looking me straight in the eye.

The room was large enough for three people. Anne was at the other end, facing us. The sales girl stood beside me. Anne held her arms out from her body so that we could see the effect more easily. Instinctively she had half opened her mouth and parted her knees. I held one of her wrists up higher and made her turn slightly, to the right, and then to the left.

“As you can see,” I said, “they both will do. But I think you should take in the belt a little.”

The young dark-haired woman went and put her finger between the nylon and the hollow of Anne’s waist. I had the impression that she was really beginning to be affected by this unusual spectacle.

“Turn around!” I ordered Anne, letting go of her wrist.

She hid her face in her hands and turned. The two round globes of her buttocks were crisscrossed by a dozen red lines which stood out clearly on the delicate skin. As several hours had passed since her punishment, the general discoloration had faded and only the marks of the whip itself were visible on the blonde flesh.

I looked at the pretty salesgirl but she no longer dared to look at me, transfixed by this sudden revelation and, as it were, touched by its grace.

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