ALWAYS IN FASHION

Rewritten

by anonyma

"Let's see, red, black or blue." Linda pondered the three suits she had just removed from her closet. Today was a big day and this choice could be important. After years in the retail clothing industry, Linda had an interview for an executive position with Fiero Fashions, a big Seventh Avenue concern. She had three Fiero suits and the choice between them was causing her some trouble. Each one was held in turn in front of her naked body while she gazed intently at the mirror. "Red is a little too up front. Black is too predictable. I'll go with a nice conservative blue." Linda knew that she always looked good in blue and this particular suit was just trendy enough to let them know she was up on fashion and their products.

As she returned the other two suits to her closet, Linda placed her choice on the bed and sat at her dressing table to apply the proper makeup. "I wonder if the interviewer will be male or female." That could have a considerable bearing on how she looked or acted. "Oh well, no way of knowing. I'll just have to try and look the best I can." After the makeup, a task which took considerable time and effort, Linda donned her white thigh-highs and affixed the tight skirt, which fell to a smart but sexy length above her knee. She stood before her full-length mirror and smoothed out the material, running her palms caressingly over her rear. "Nice ass," she thought to herself. It certainly was the kind of butt that raised eyes as she passed. Linda was particularly proud of it, as she was of her breasts which had been turning men's heads since puberty. As she cupped them gently in her hands, Linda thought how they were in the same shape they were at 17, not a hint of sag. She really didn't need a bra and the jacket on her suit was just snug enough to keep them from bouncing around. In fact, she was going entirely without underwear. Linda loved to take chances that way. It was her little fantasy, almost like making love in a public place. And besides, the suit was fully lined. Just to be sure, she slid the front zipper all the way to her neck. No sense taking chances. After sqeezing into blue pumps and draping a smallish pocketbook over her shoulder, Linda stood in front of the mirror and saw an attractive professional brunette. "Just right for the job," she chuckled.

Linda arrived at Fiero Fashions at 10:00 a.m., her appointed time. The corporate offices, on the 17th floor of a skyscraper, were very smartly appointed. Obviously someone had taken care about the interior decor. She announced her name to the receptionist who immediately alerted her boss. "Linda Robertson here to see you, sir," she said into a telephone. Well, now she knew it was a man and she secretly wished that her zipper was a little lower. "You can go right in." Linda opened the door to the inner office and a distinguished well-dressed gentleman in his 40s approached her, hand extended in greeting. "Ms. Robertson, Ron Pratt. I'm pleased to meet you." "I'm pleased to meet you, sir," she responded formally. "Please sit down," he offered. Linda sat demurely in a large office chair and crossed her legs, pressing them tightly together, and covered her almost visible crotch with her bag. The chair immediately enveloped her and she felt quite comfortable, as comfortable as one can be on an interview. The gentleman walked around the desk and plunked himself down in an armless chair behind it. The room was well set up, if a little messy at the moment. Sunlight poured in through the large windows. The walls, his desk and a small conference table were covered with fashion drawings. Linda noticed a small personal elevator on one side of the room and thought that this business must be doing well.

"I just need to bring up your resume, Ms. Robertson," he said typing into a PC on the desk in front of him. "Ah, I see you've been a visual merchandiser as well as a store manager." "Yes, for three years," she replied, thinking how complete her resume was for a young woman. She had paid her dues, and now was the time for the payoff. "How would you like to do some visual merchandising for us?" he asked. It wasn't quite what she was there for. Linda was responding to an add for an executive position in the fashion industry. "It would be in a supervisory capacity of course. We have a display room on the thirteenth floor of this building where we bring retailers on a regular basis. We use live models of course but we also have mannequins set up so they can wander around and check out the fashions without feeling pressured. You could oversee that entire room. Its part of the position." Well, it wasn't exactly what she was looking for, but it was an entry into the business. "That sounds very interesting," she told him, somewhat disingenuously.

"Good," Mr. Pratt responded. "I'll be taking you down there a little later and you can have a look at the place. Maybe you'll have some suggestions. But I need to call up your application first." Mr. Pratt typed a little more into the computer as it buzzed quietly to his commands. He stopped typing and Linda watched his right index finger come down on the "return" key. At that moment, she felt a slight electric shock in her head as her back suddenly straightened out and she came to attention in her chair, uncrossing her legs. "Are you all right, Ms. Robertson," asked Mr. Pratt. "Yes, just fine," she responded. That was a lie. She wasn't fine at all. The shock left Linda a bit confused and she was starting to feel a little warm. More than that, she was beginning to feel a growing attraction to Mr. Pratt. He did look distinguished, and that suit looked awfully good on him. Why hadn't she noticed that before? Maybe she was too nervous about the interview. Now the discomfort level was starting to grow, her crotch was getting wet and she was having difficulty concealing her attraction.

Just then the phone rang and, after picking up the receiver, Mr. Pratt swung around in his chair to have a private conversation away from Linda. This intrigued her even more. There were only two things on her mind right now, this job and that man. Linda rose involuntarily out of her chair and walked around the desk to face her interviewer head on. "Mr. Pratt," she said in a sultry voice, "I'd like to talk with you." Mr. Pratt told the caller her would get back to him and replaced the receiver. "Mr. Pratt," Linda continued, "I really want this job."

"Really?" he replied, looking her straight in the eye. He did not seem surprised by her declaration and a little smile grew across his face. "How much do you want this job?" "I want it so much," she answered, "that I'd do anything to get it." "Anything?" he asked, his face lighting up. With that, Linda walked up to him, straddled his legs and sat down on them. Her hands went directly for his crotch and, opening the zipper, pulled out his enormous, engorged cock. With that she blasted into the next orbit of arousal. "I see you've been expecting me," she joked. As her hands and mouth manipulated his organ, he responded with gasps and groans, which only quickened her heartbeat. Finally Linda could stand it no longer. She stood up, lifted her skirt, grabbed his throbbing member and pushed herself down on top of it so that he was thrust deep inside of her.

The two of them gasped in ecstasy and Linda took his head in both hands planting kisses all over it, especially the lips. They exchanged tongues as she bucked up and down on him increasing their excitement, her hair flying everywhere. "I guess you really want this job, Ms. Robertson," he managed to say breathily. As she kissed him, Linda said, "Tell me what I can do for you, Mr. Pratt. I think you'll find that I take direction very well." With that he pushed her off of him and they both stood up. Grabbing her by the shoulders, Pratt turned Linda around to face the desk and placing his hand behind her neck, forced her face down until it almost reached the desk. She quickly put her hands up to brace against the downward movement. "There, just like that," he commanded, "This is how I want it. Now spread your legs."

Linda gratefully followed her orders, taking great pleasure in the knowledge that she was pleasing him. She shivered as she felt his palms caressing her ass, rubbing up and down and around. Linda involuntarily shifted her weight back and forth between her legs, so eager was she for his entry. Finally his hands reached down and slowly lifted the hem of her skirt exposing her bare skin. She heard his low groans and then felt his cock penetrating her and slowly pushing deep inside of her. Now her groans were added to his as he moved in and out of her with ever increasing speed. "Ms. Robertson," he gasped, "press return." What was he talking about, she wondered. Press return? Then she realized that his PC was on the desk right in front of her face. Press return, what a time to think about that, she giggled to herself. "Do it now, Ms. Robertson," he commanded. Linda lifted her right hand up off the desk and followed his order. The computer began to whir and she could see on the screen that she had launched a program called "FREEZE IT." Pretty strange name for a program, she thought as he continued to pound into her. Then the screen read "program activated" and a split second later everything changed.

Linda felt a sharp electric shock course through her body like a bolt of lightning from her head to her toes. She had just enough time to raise her head up, open her mouth and let out a short squeal before her entire body froze solid. All of her joints locked in place and her muscles refused to respond to her directions. She was now a statue.

This state of affairs did not seem to bother Mr. Pratt. She could still feel him pounding into her faster and faster until he finally pulled out and exploded onto the carpet. Despite the shock, Linda felt a few orgasms of her own rumbling through her stiffened body. She looked and felt like some kind of corporate love doll, mouth open, ass exposed and wearing a fashionable blue Fiero suit.

After collecting himself, Mr. Pratt walked to the front of the desk and began manipulating his computer. After a bit of his typing, Linda felt her torso being raised to an erect position. Her body was now completely out of her control. The thought of being robotized, her body responding only to Pratt’s computer commands was incredibly stimulating to her. Of course, she was now staring at the ceiling with her hands in front of her breasts, palms open. Pratt quickly rectified this situation by typing more commands and Linda's head moved down so she looked straight ahead and her mouth closed. Her arms then lowered to the side so that she appeared to be standing stiffly at attention.

Pratt stood behind her and picked up the human statue moving her away from the desk to a more open part of the room. "I think that you are the perfect candidate for this job," joked Mr. Pratt as he reached for her collar and slowly lowered the zipper of Linda’s jacket. The two perfectly round melons burst out from their restraint, her nipples still firm and hard from their earlier activity. He gently rubbed her breasts over and over and sucked her nipples until she was screaming inwardly from the ecstacy. But her glassy stare revealed none of this to the world. "I know this is driving you crazy," he explained. "Its part of the program, you see. You will find that being a mannequin is the biggest turn on you've ever had."

"A mannequin! Is that what’s happening to me?" Linda was struck with fear as she remembered the 13th floor but then, the more he showed her attention, the sexier she began to feel. With that, Mr. Pratt picked up his phone and ordered his secretary to send in the "moving unit." "The movers will be here soon, Linda," he said. "Of course, you aren't one of them. You're not moving at all. In the meantime, lets have a little fun." He giggled at the little joke as he zipped up the jacket, encasing her breasts within. "I'm glad you went without underwear today, Linda. It makes it alot easier for us." Linda wondered what he was talking about in between the hot flashes brought on by her new sensitivity to being imprisoned in her body and to just about everything that moved.

Pratt smoothed out the lines on her suit and carefully removed any lint or foreign objects. He placed an attache case in her right hand and placed her bag over her left shoulder, her left hand on the bag. Then, producing a camera from his desk, Pratt began to take pictures of Linda from every conceivable angle. He would sometimes change the placement of her head or hands, or he would spread her legs taking more pictures. Linda’s sexual excitement grew as she thought about being sexy, desired and on display. Pratt then lowered her zipper and took more pictures with it at different levels. Finally he unzipped her all the way, once again exposing her breasts and the camera began to whir incessantly. Through it all, Linda appeared completely stone-faced, a mannequin dutifully responding to commands, staring mindlessly into space.

Next Pratt took away the attache case and purse and removed her jacket entirely. She stood completely naked from waist up, but untouched from the waist down. He placed an easel behind her with a sales chart on it and then stuck a pointer in Linda’s left hand stimulating her more. Every time he touched her she came ever closer to orgasm. Pratt then moved to his desk and began typing commands into the computer once again. It was a pre-arranged pose that he wanted Linda to take. Her body responded slowly and mechanically like a robot, always beyond her control. Her legs spread involuntarily, her left hand raised the pointer to the chart and she turned and faced the other way, as if lecturing to a board meeting. Finally Linda felt her mouth opening, as if she had been stopped in mid-sentence. There she stood, half-naked, the wet dream of every man who had to sit through a boring corporate presentation. Pratt was beside himself with excitement and began moving around Linda, snapping pictures wildly. This only added to Linda’s considerable state of arousal and she surely would have come right there had not the phone rung.

Pratt put down the camera and picked up the receiver. "All right, when they get here, send them right in," he said. "The movers are almost here, Ms. Robertson, so we will have to tidy you up." She thought it comical that he would be so formal given the situation. Pratt typed in more commands and Linda felt her body returning to attention. He replaced her jacket and zipped it up to the collar. Pratt then placed Linda’s arms behind her back and encased them in handcuffs. "Just a precaution," Pratt explained. It was hardly necessary. Linda wasn’t going anywhere on her own

Within a minute, two men in overalls entered with a handcart and passed in front of Linda's line of vision. She heard them park the handcart right behind her and within seconds she was being lifted onto it and secured around the waist. She was then tipped backwards and brought into the elevator on the opposite side of the office. Linda was turned around so she could see the elevator door sliding shut in front of her. "Going down," said Mr. Pratt mockingly and she could feel six eyes covering every inch of her rigid body. A few seconds later the doors opened onto a wide luxurious showroom.

As she was wheeled onto the floor Linda couldn't see much because her eyes were pointed towards the ceiling. Each jolt of the cart sent waves of sexual flashes through her but nothing registered on her face of course. Finally they reached their destination and the handcart was placed upright. Linda looked out onto a wide air conditioned room filled with large potted plants and mannequins in displays around the room. There were all sorts of styles on the mannequins from sportswear to evening gowns, the entire range of Fiero Fashions.

Soon, a middle-aged man walked up to her and began closely eyeing her over. Is this the new mannequin," he asked Mr. Pratt. "Sure is. Isn't she a beauty? Just look at that figure!" New mannequin! I knew it! They're talking about me like a was a car! But just as Mr. Pratt had told her about the program, the more Linda concentrated on being a mannequin on display, the sexier she felt. I hope they give me something hot to wear, she thought to herself, looking at a display of lingerie directly in front of her

The two men in overalls lifted Linda off the handcart and onto a circular display centrally located in the room. There were two other mannequins on the stand, a blonde and a redhead, both wearing sexy black cocktail dresses and posed in very feminine stances. Linda figured that she was the brunette in the bunch. The handcuffs were removed but her hands remained cemented in place behind her. Soon, her suit was unceremoniously removed. It was all very businesslike but with every touch of the visual merchandiser, with every sound of a zipper, with every swoosh of material, Linda was sent into an orbit of sensual pleasure. Her thigh-highs and shoes were then removed and she stood completely naked, facing out onto the floor. The other two mannequins were behind her on the circular stand so that the viewer could walk around the display and see the front of a dress no matter where he stood.

Soon Linda was fitted with dark panty hose and dress shoes with heels at least an inch higher than her pumps. Then came a slinky black dress over her head. She screamed inside as the material slid over her nipples and breasts. As the zipper was closed and the dress encased her, Linda could tell that it had a high collar with some sort of gauze material between the collar and the low neckline. The bodice fit very tightly and her hands could feel the skirt flare out to a hem somewhere around mid-thigh. The V.M. then changed her eye and face makeup and spent alot of time arranging her shoulder-length hair. She wasn't quite sure why because her hairdo was very simple, straight down, ending in a curve in at the bottom. But he was meticulous in every detail. Finally she was posed with legs slightly separated, both arms coming out sideways from her body in a sort of V-shape and her head straight ahead with an air of confidence about her. It was a very active pose she thought, almost as if she were out on the town, dancing the night away.

"There," said the visual merchandiser to Mr. Pratt. "What do you think?" "I think she'll do just fine." "Just fine!" the V.M. replied almost offended. "She's FABULOUS!" "Well, yeah, of course," Pratt stammered. "OK, if that's the last one, lets open the doors." "Wait," insisted Pratt. "I want to take some pictures first." Once again he began moving around her, snapping away at her frozen form. Linda could take it no more. The sight and sound of two men admiring her in her beautiful dress and pose, and now the picture-taking, was too much. She exploded in repeated and prolonged orgasms. But on the outside she was rigid and silent, staring blankly at a display of formal dresses across the way. None of the retailers who entered the display room that day would ever guess the fire going on inside that lovely mannequin in the black flared cocktail dress. As her empty eyes gazed ahead, Linda wouldn't have it any other way.

End