Soubrette Chapter 10 Nick was happy playing the system,unemployed and unemployable but it had to end some time.

Chapter 10

I've never enjoyed modelling, especially my own creations. My runway was Soubrette's shop floor, between the customers' changing room, and the rack of fun inflatables. For an audience I had Janice snapping away with her mobile phone, and Isabel pulling faces in order to make me laugh.

'I don't think Mrs Armstrong will be interested in that view,' I said, when directed to bend over the shop's counter.

'It's a fine view,' Isabel quipped, 'or would be if you weren't wearing such a boring uniform.'

That morning, for the first time since joining Soubrette, I had felt dressed for an ordinary job. Certainly, the kneelength black dress, with its white cuffs and apron, was formal but not outlandishly. In seamed black nylons, and low heeled shoes I felt businesslike, and smart. My only regret was leaving the stiff black fabric unlined, which I would rectify in more the second uniform.

'Well that's all of them sent,' Janice said, setting her phone aside, 'we'll have to wait on Mrs Armstrong approval.'

'Is it time for Verity to put on her shop uniform?' Isabel asked, adding with a sneer, 'and those lovely new shoes.'

'Are you going to help,' I asked Isabel, 'or just watch?' On the final word I attempted a saucy wink, although I had little experience of winking, saucy or otherwise.

Last night's glamorous French maid, had been much on my mind. As I worked on my uniform, I couldn't help but remember the swell of her breasts, and the impossibly long legs. I thought I was tightly "tucked", but Isabel gave no indication of her true gender. All smoke and mirrors I knew, tricks of the trade I employed myself. But Isabel's deceit was flawless, and my attention drifted back constantly to what the beneath. Specifically, my need to see it.

'That's your ankles done,' Isabel said, slowly standing, her hands running up my legs. 'Not too tight?'

Actually I could see no reason for the binding, the heels restricted my steps to inches. But it was difficult to contradict Isabel, when I could feel her hand sliding across my bottom, to between my legs.

'Sank yoo, Madamoiselle Isabel,' I replied, smiling warmly at the other assistant, and pushing my bottom back against her hand. Isabel's eyes widened slightly at my willing compliance. I could tell that she wanted to say something, but Janice interrupted. Sagging somewhat, I took the telephone from her.

'I'm impressed by your work, Parsons.' Although we had met only briefly, Mrs Armstrong's voice was unmistakable. Her compliment, delivered in an imperious tone, seemed sincere, albeit less than friendly.

'Thank you, ma'am,' I said slowly, in what I hoped was a respectful manner. Mrs Armstrong talked with the confidence of an earlier age. I could only reply like the timorous hireling, I knew I was expected to be.

'Several of the photographs,' she said slowly, 'Show flashes of white lace, at the collar and hem. These were not included in my request.'

'I'm sorry ma'am, that was my slip,' I stammered, 'the uniform's fabric is quite rough against the skin. I'll add a lining to the next one.'

'Wouldn't a lining make the uniform too heavy to work in?' She had a point, and I mumbled my assent.

'I have no problem with you wearing a slip,' she continued, 'it adds a touch of femininity, don't you think?' Again, I could only mumble agreement, and gratefully handed back the phone. Was it my imagination, all was Mrs Armstrong treating me like a simpleton? Was that the role I would be expected to play?

I was still puzzling over this, when Isabel's arm snaked around my waist, and began drawing me closer.

'I don't like the idea of you working alone all day,' she fussed.

'Don't worry, I'm a big girl now,' I said, dragging her hand away from my waist back to my bottom.

'What's got into you?' Isabel fixed me with a thin lipped glare.

'Nothing,' I said defiantly, 'but I'm hoping you will.' Once more I tried my saucy wink, again to little effect.

'You don't play the trollop very well,' Isabel said, and slapped me hard on the back of my legs.

'I know you want to bonk me,' I said, blinking away the tears. To my amazement, Isabel laughed good-naturedly.

'Nobody has bonked anyone since the 1980s,' she said, tightening her grip on my waist. 'I bet nobody has touched you below the belly button since then either.'

'I had dates when I was in college,' I protested, 'and when I saw you last night in your uniform, I knew that I…'

'You've been living like a nun for years,' Isabel said, through a smile, 'performing good works, and going to bed early. So when you see me at my slutty is, it was like a bomb going off in your panties.'

'So you don't want to…' I mumbled, completely deflated.

'Who wouldn't?' Isabel squeezed my own bottom, 'but I wouldn't step on Kirsty's toes.'

I had never felt more stupid, than I did at that moment. Would Isabel tell Kirsty what I'd said and done? However, before i'd had any chance for self recrimination, Janice bustled back into the shop, and said, 'it's time to be a streetwalker again.'