The Designer

I had just landed.

The flight was exhausting. And all I wanted to do was collapse into bed and sleep for two full days. But I knew I wasn't going to get too. I needed to get my outfits ready. I had to leave for the wedding in less than a week and I didn't have a single outfit planned.

I hope the designer my friend suggested would work, because if not, I was doomed. Fingers crossed. I detested shopping, especially with deadlines. I was barely going to be able to rest. I had an early appointment scheduled with the designer. As soon as my head touched the pillow, I was asleep.

I was late by two hours. Jet lag had made it difficult to wake up. I quickly changed into my tracksuit and sprinted outside to the waiting taxi. As soon as I arrived, I understood I needed to dress more appropriately. It was an upscale store. I felt uncomfortable in my baggy attire. I was escorted inside and forced to wait. After a short while, a man entered and claimed to be the designer. I immediately apologized for my tardiness. Honestly, he seemed too young to be the label's designer, I had my reservations.

I was led into another room which was filled with garments, and he asked me to browse through the racks. On seeing my lost expression, he made me sit down and inquired about my requirements. He was very polite and asked relevant questions only. A professional. I was impressed.

I told him, it was a close friend's wedding here in India. Her friend had highly recommended this boutique. It was a big celebration, with over 400 guests. There were four events for which I wanted outfits made. Two day plus two evening events.

I was lost in my own thoughts while he showed me a few options. God, I hated these social gatherings. But here I was waiting to be helped with my clothes for the next two dreaded weeks. The only solace was that I had an entire room to myself at the resort. My husband wasn't going to make it due to work commitments.

Finally, he asked me to try on a black shiny gown. It was a tube gown that was fitted all the way down to the hip and flared outward till it reached the floor. It wasn't my style. I sighed and grudgingly made my way to the changing room to get dressed. I looked at him and smiled as I went it. He returned a polite smile of his own. But I could notice that he felt my mind was altogether elsewhere.

The changing area was a large cubical with a big leather couch on one side and two large wall-mounted mirrors. It didn't have a door, just a beautiful curtain to be drawn.

This place certainly was fancy.

When I put the gown on, it was a perfect fit. I was once again impressed. In fact, I looked fantastic. Of course, when I really wear it out, the bra strap won't be noticeable. And I wouldn't tie my hair up.

I drew open the curtains and stepped out.

He was surprised and rather taken aback.

He covered it well with a smile and said it looks great on you. I assumed it was the transformation from the loose fit tracksuit to the gown.

My every curve was on display, I was generously blessed where my bottom and breasts were concerned. I told him that I would take this.

That's when he said no.

I was shocked.

And asked excuse me?

To which he apologised and said, I know it looks lovely on you, but it's not you. Please allow me to show you; how I would dress you up.

I was confused now. Didn't he just pull this dress out for me?

He guided me into another adjoining room. It was filled with Indian clothes as well. Then, after asking me to sit, he pulled out three outfits. You should wear these two for the events in the day and the third for the night, he advised. Once we finish the trials with these three, we will decide on the fourth outfit.

Now, he was approaching me with an entirely different mindset. He was now more confident and eager to help me. I'm not sure what changed. I was content to let him handle everything, though.

He presented me with the first outfit and informed me that it was for the wedding. It featured a skirt with an intricately embroidered blouse, accompanied by a stole. The entire outfit was in a gorgeous ivory colour. The tiny blouse was acceptable, but the neckline was deep. And by deep, I mean plunging.

I was again skeptical.

But, he reassured me that it was the perfect outfit, and ushered me into the dressing room. This room was identical to the previous one.

I took the gown off and put the skirt on. It was high waisted and fit me well. It looked beautiful. But, the blouse was a problem. It wasn't meant to be worn with a bra. It was smaller than the white lace bra that I had on, which I had to eventually remove.

The blouse was a tight fit, I was unable to attach all the hooks at the back. I only managed two of the four.

My breasts were squished, making them more apparent, and the neckline did absolutely nothing to prevent the display of skin.

It displayed a significant amount of cleavage.

I called out that the blouse doesn't fit me properly and suggested that I try something different.

He said no once again, and I was amazed at his curt response.

But it was followed by, don't worry about the fittings, though; that's what we excel at. The look that we are trying to achieve, will be incomplete if we change any part of the outfit.

Then he made an odd remark.

I'd like to see it on you.

I figured the designer would definitely need to see in order for it to fit it properly. Yet it was his tone and the way he said it that struck me as strange.

I brushed my thoughts aside and drew the curtain aside.

He stepped in and said wow! You look fantastic.

I somewhat flushed.

I informed him that the blouse was the problem because it was quite deep and very tight.

He moved closer to me and then released the blouse hooks. Before I could even react, he grasped the two edges from the back and demonstrated how it would fit after loosening the blouse. I was so surprised by his unhooking of my blouse, I could barely utter a word. I was naked underneath that blouse.

He went on to explain that once the blouse was altered to my measurements, the way the neckline looked will improve, making it appear more exquisite than it had before.

He used his words carefully to prevent me from feeling uncomfortable. But his proximity was making me nervous. He let go of the blouse and moved in even closer. The blouse was just hanging off me now loosely, I was afraid the blouse would slip of me, and show my erect hard nipples. He said your heavy at the chest which is why the top was ill fitting. I blushed again and didn't utter a word. His voice was slightly huskier than earlier.

He then asked me to open my hair. It seemed more like an order than a request. I did as I was told. He said you will wear golden heels with this and a golden necklace which will be placed until here. What he did next stunned me. He put his finger in between my breasts, pointing to where the neck piece would sit.

His finger was in contact with both my breasts, I couldn't move. He kept it in place slightly longer than required, and then handed me a sheer stole. He said since it's the wedding, we will cover the neck with this. It's more traditional. I was quiet. All I could think of was his finger. It felt like he had burnt me with that touch. I realised I was moist. This shopping was actually having an effect on me. This man to be more precise.

I immediately brushed these thoughts aside and said yes this could work, but I would like to raise the neck line a little. He turned me around, looked at me and said, please have faith in me, I will make sure that you look amazing for your event. Raising the neck, will not do justice to your gorgeous body. I turned red at the bold compliment and wetter. I just nodded my head in approval. He said excellent and proceeded to hand me the next outfit.

It was a dark blue silk halter gown; it had a subtle sheen to it. It was intricately embroidered all over. It was a beautiful piece. But again, it was looked too small, and had no back!! The halter was so small that my boobs were on display at the side and the neck was as low as the previous one. I put it on and spoke aloud, it isn't my size. All he replied was show me. I shivered at that voice, why did he have to speak like that. It was so uncomfortable yet I couldn't say a word. I wanted him to see me half naked. I wanted him to touch my cleavage again and burn me. I sighed in frustration and drew open the curtains.

He came and stood behind me. Close. His eyes were intense as they focused on me. He said the dress fits perfectly from below the waist. It pronounces your bottom perfectly. I don't think I could blush more.

He was igniting my core. And now it was on fire. I wanted him to fuck now right now.

I concentrated on the fittings. He was saying something about the length being ideal and the heels to be worn. Then he said now for the fitting of the top, I am going to keep it backless like it is. He used his fingers to hold the fabric at the sides caressing my breasts ever so gently, teasing me even more, to pull the fabric towards the back. I was frozen.

He said, since you not will be wearing a bra, I shall increase this fabric on the sides, so that you can avoid having a wardrobe malfunction.

Once the fabric was pulled behind, the sides weren't the issue anymore, but the neck opened up and my abundant cleavage was on display again. He proceeded to tell me; you are made to wear my clothes. His eyes wouldn't leave my cleavage. The sexual tension in the air was palpable. God, I think I just soaked my panties.

He asked me to keep my hair open and wavy on the sides. And also, to apply some bronzer on my chest so that it glows. I was now afraid I'll leak through my panties, and even more afraid that he could smell my arousal. His fingers were still on me, burning my skin again, and making my pussy burn too. He was staring at my face while I was lost in thought.

He didn't lift his fingers and proceeded to ask me do you like it?

I nodded again, and he lifted his fingers. And moved back. He handed me the third outfit.

It was a golden pre stitched saree, with a golden cropped top. The saree was sheer and the top was actually an embroidered bra. It only had strings at the back, to tie the waist and the neck. The fabric was such that it gave the effect of liquid metal. I wouldn't be able to wear a bra underneath this too. It was so tiny, that the tie up was right below my breasts. The fit was so snug, it pronounced the curves of my breasts even more. I looked so hot in it. I felt so sexy in it. I drew open the curtains to show off.

He came in and he was speechless. His expression said it all. He was openly staring at me. I just wanted to throw him on the ground and ride myself to multiple orgasms. I had never been this aroused ever before in my life. I gathered my thoughts again.

And asked him for the final outfit. He went into another room and came out holding a black outfit. He said this wasn't meant to be sold. It's my absolute favourite, but you deserve to wear it. He handed it to me and drew the curtains.

It was a black sequin high waisted skirt. It fit me like skin. But it was short, no it wasn't a skirt, it was just a band of fabric at the waist. It ended exactly where my crack did. It made my ass look big, in the right way. It made my legs look longer and made me look shapelier than I was. I couldn't wear this to the wedding, but I sure as hell could show off to him. I looked at the top, it was just a sheer shirt. I thought he must have forgotten that i wasn't wearing a bra and was about to call him. But then I realised he wouldn't make mistakes like this. He intentionally handed me this outfit which is special to him. Of course, it was sheer. I debated inside what to do. And I wore the shirt and tucked it in the skirt. I left the top three buttons undone, and it showed a fantastic cleavage. My dark areolas were clearly visible with my hard nipples standing erect poking through the thin delicate shirt, screaming for attention. I did up my hair and drew the curtain.

He was gawking. I smiled. He came and stood behind me, almost touching me, and said I looked breathtaking. He continued to stare. My pussy was now on fire and leaking. I was going to go home and masturbate immediately. I desperately needed a release. He cleared his throat in a visible futile attempt to clear his mind and told me that this outfit needs a lacey bodysuit underneath to complete the look. And that I would need to go shopping for a black bodysuit. I was to send him pictures of options and he would choose the one he liked. The idea was so hot I did not object. But I told him it was maybe not appropirate for the occasion. He said that with some fittings it would be. He further told me that I would have a very high chance of wardrobe malfunction while sitting or bending. He was going to fix that. He told me to bend from the waist and touch the floor keeping my knees straight.

I was now worrried.

He would see my soaked panties if I bend forward. Before I had time to contemplate, he came closer and gently pushed me into position. I couldn't stop him. He then kneeled down behind me and saw my condition. He was quiet for a long time. He then came even closer and inhaled my scent, taking a deep breath. I whimpered. He said you smell intoxicating. He asked me what do you want. Now I was quiet. He asked me again. What do you need. I replied quietly, I need to orgasm.

He stood up, unzipped himself. He pulled aside my panties and entered me in one stroke. I gasped. He stood still and let me squirm. I said please. He asked me please what. Please fuck me, I said. Please I beg you. He pushed me ahead, still inside me, and placed my hands against the mirror and gathered all my hair into a bunch. With a firm grip he pulled at it hard, my back was arched completely, as he started fucking me hard. I moaned and moaned. I was so horny with lust, I couldn't think straight. He then asked me not to cum unless given permission. I just mumbled a yes sir. He was fast and rough, keeping me on my toes. I needed to cum, I asked him. Please sir, please may I cum. I can't take it anymore. I can't hold it anymore. He pulled my hair so hard. I screamed. He said no softly.

I whimpered. My moans were actually begging him. Pleading with this man, to let me cum, again, and again. His hands left my hair. He ripped the shirt open. It was in shreds. He pulled out my breasts. And he said, you have the most luscious breasts ever, and then he fucked me harder and mauled my breasts, I had to scream. He squeezed my breasts with a harshness I had never experienced before. He fucked me even harder. Then be pulled my nipples and twisted them, I was in pain when he said cum for me now. I screamed into my orgasm, as tears rolled down my eyes. My body was trembling, shivering. I was incoherent. I came twice as he continued to pump in and out of me. I couldn't stand anymore and fell onto the ground. He grabbed my hair again and pulled me up onto my knees and forced his cock into my mouth. I was numb with my orgasm. He fucked my mouth and in seconds he was cumming. He asked me not to let a drop leak out. I concentrated and made sure I obeyed him. He filled my mouth. I let his cum pool in my mouth. And then he pulled my hair and asked me to swallow. I obeyed. And then he asked me to clean his cock. I did it with utmost care. Once he was clean, he put his cock back in, zipped up and said I was to come for trials in 4 days. And he turned and left, leaving me on the floor. I got up still trembling and wore my clothes and left.

The very next day I went to the lingerie store. I tried on ten different suits and send him four of the best looking ones. I was dripping, so I had to keep my panties on and try them. To entice him, I sent three-four positions in each of the shortlisted design. Showing off my breasts in each. He saw them all, and replied with an image of the selected design. That was all the conversation we had in three days. He hadn't said anything.

I was tormented. I had been furiously masturbating twice a day. But I wasn't satisfied. I wanted that cock again. The fourth day finally arrived, I was thrilled. I was ready to be fucked thoroughly. I got up early and put extra effort in getting ready. I wanted to look pretty for him. I made sure I wore the sexiest set of thongs I owned. And on top of that I wore a black backless halter dress up to my knees, which could be removed with just undoing two strings. I wanted him to have the easiest access. To complete the look, I wore golden tie up heels, which came below my knees. I looked at myself, my reflection was that of a girl ready to enter one of the fancy nightclubs. And I was just going for my dress fittings. Fuck my thong was already drenched within 5 mins. I got into my waiting cab.

I was nervous and fidgety as I reached. I was escorted into the second room. I waited impatiently for him to come. After about ten mins he arrived. He was followed by a girl. He then proceeded to introduce his assistant and said she would help me with my fittings. And he just turned around and left us.

I was disappointed. And irritated. The girl was polite and helped me try all the four outfits. They felt beautiful and he was right, after the fittings they looked even more gorgeous. I could feel the power of the man through the outfits. Even with him not giving me attention, his clothes kept me wet. They were chosen by him for me. And when I wore them, it constantly reminded me of his authority. I sighed at my current state of angered arousal.

Even the black sequin skirt was made a little longer and the shirt was less transparent, it completed the look and was now worthy of the occasion. As I changed back into the clothes I was wearing, my mind wandered. He was skilful in his profession. The girl had to be aware of what happened. She was his assistant after all. Unless she was on leave. She was dressed professionally in a white pencil skirt and a white intucked shirt. It was obvious she was shapely. I wondered if she was fucking him. But she was very helpful and kind and gave no uncomfortable vibe. Just as I drew the curtain open, he walked in.

He immediately told his assitant that would be all. She wished me luck and told me to enjoy the outfits with a smile and left the room closing the door behind. There was a circular sofa in the middle of the room. It had a circular back rest as well. He sat on the sofa leaving me standing and asked me how have I been, how has my stay been in the city. I answered to these with curt replies, obviously irked. Then he asked if I was happy with the fittings. I told him it was perfect. He said thank you. This small talk was killing me. I wanted him to lift my dress and take me like last time. But he was just sitting there acting like nothing happened. He then offered me something to drink. I politely declined. I couldn't take it anymore and just said it. I want you to fuck me.

He just raised his eyebrows in surprise. I was angry now. I narrowed my eyes and told him again; I want you to fuck me. He then stared at me until I realised my mistake. I apologised. I am sorry. And looked down, waiting for him to speak. He then asked me if I dressed like this usually. I looked up surprised now. I asked him don't you like it? He replied it's very different from how you were dressed the first time. So, I am wondering which one is your usual dress code. I said the first one is more me. I was embarrassed at the way he stared at me and my body like he was studying an object.

He then said this dress was for me. I turned even more red and nodded wordless. He said I like you dressed like that and the heels looks amazing. You should dress like this every day. This time I blushed and was now beaming with the compliment. He got up and left the room and returned with a small black leather briefcase. He placed it next to him. He ordered me to strip off my dress only and leave the golden tie up heels on. I undid my back string first and then the neck one. The dress pooled at my feet. I proceeded to bend and pulled down my thong. He watched me.