They arrived into a dark room. How they’d gotten from her loft to here was more of that genii magic. She moved to whisk away the genii “smoke” which seemed to accompany his more ‘extreme’ tricks, forgetting that he’d just snapped the cuffs behind her back.
“Gene” she whispered into the darkness.
“Right here, Boss,” came his voice from behind her left shoulder. His hand took her elbow and steered her towards the door, dimly outlined with light. He wondered how she would react to the little change he’d made in her attire while they were “in transit”.
Gone was her discreetly sexy black dress. Gone was his rubber wetsuit, which he had donned to tease a laugh out of her. She was strung pretty tight, the worst of all the many owners he’d had over the eons.
He leaned around her and opened the door. To the left, the corridor bent to presumably more rooms; to the right a splash of color and sound, and the flowing tide of people who had come to play.
She pulled at the cuffs again, somewhat unnerved. She looked down and stopped dead. Gene, although expecting some reaction, hadn’t expected that, and only barely managed to avoid falling over her. His attention had wandered to a blonde Adonis across the room, as tall as he himself was…and he’d plowed right into the Boss.
“Gene, what the fuck is this?!”
“What what are you talking about, Boss?” he said, as he juggled her, himself, keeping them from sprawling across the corridor in a disordered tangle.
“This!” she hissed, but, unable to use her hands, she settled for jerking her head down towards her chest.
“Ohhh, that.” He almost laughed aloud, but smartly stuffed that back down. “Well, Boss, the dress was great. Sexy as all get out. But really, you might have considered wearing that to a vanilla event. Sure, you’d top it with a cute sweater, or a tailored blazer, but i know you now, and your penchant for multi-use clothing. ”
He took a deep breath, then stepped around her, lifting her chin to meet his eyes. Hers were storm-cloud blue, and pissed.
“You are beautiful. Gorgeous. Hawt. Different from them. Not jaded, but wary. I thought something a bit…different…would suit. You are stunning, you know.”
He was calm, matter of fact. With a barely perceptible gesture, the wall beside them turned into a mirror. He turned her to face herself. Her hair was pulled over her shoulders, secured somehow behind her in a loose, sexy ponytail. A tendril had slipped free in their near-fall, and curled softly beside her neck, laying in unspoken invitation on the top of her left breast. A breast that rose enticingly from the deep-cut corset that was wrapped gently around her. The corset was different. White lace, covering a soft, just-barely-pink silk base, accented by tiny pearl buttons. The lace that outlined the very top hid her nipples from view, but little else. Her breasts curved, full and round from the top edge, the soft cream of her skin was complimented by the white and pink tones of the corset.
Below the corset, a sheer lace underskirt, all handkerchief pointed and flirty hung to barely cover the top of her stockings, now white fishnets. Her shoes were palest pink, 5 inch, open-toed stilettos, with thin straps crossing up around her slender feet.
She turned slowly to see the back. He had used a pearly pink scrunchy in her hair, of course he had. She caught a glimpse of pink through the skirt…pink panties. Of course. The leather cuffs had been changed to soft pink rope, wrapped round and round her wrists like large cuffs. The look was breathtakingly sexy.
It fit her, and suited her. She looked like herself…and a stranger. Sexy, sensual.
In the mirror, their eyes met.
“See?” He asked softly. In the softly worn jeans, boots, and tee-shirt, he looked…amazing, actually.
Mute, she nodded, and without another word, he led her out into the party.