Kristen pulled to a stop and put the car in park. She stretched a bit and let out a moaning chirp. The sign above the door read ‘Lexa’s Boutique’. As was the case with most boutiques, it was feminine and inviting. This was the last stop of the day and hundreds of miles from home. It would mean another stay in a hotel.

The lazy days of college and friends began to fade like a distant memory. As a Junior Marketing Rep for ‘Paris Cosmetics’, she had to cover a vast district. It also meant that she had to look her best all the time. Other women must envy her. They had to want to be her. Only then would they buy cosmetics from her.

Opening the car door, she swung her legs around in true ladylike fashion. Five-inch high heels and nude nylons were now a daily part of her wardrobe. How she longed for a pair of sneakers and sweat socks. Releasing a heavy sigh, she smoothed her black miniskirt over her curvy hips. The V-neckline of her matching jacket was low cut with just a bit of her antique white camisole showing. A pushup bra insured that her melon size cleavage would be displayed for all to admire.

After grabbing her purse, she slammed the car door closed. In the dim reflection of the glass, she examined her bottom. Was it getting fat? She gazed at her profile. Nope, curvy cheeks, tight buns, and trim thighs, they were perfection itself. Although she thought it was catty, women spent more time examining other women’s breasts and asses than men did. They liked to size up the competition.

She flicked her long chestnut brown hair over her shoulder, gripped her sample case, and strode up to the door. The established reps kept to the cities. This left Kristen to scrounge for scraps in small towns across the west. It always paid to make a pitch no matter how small the shop. One never knew. The proprietor might own ten others and earn her a fat commission. It was possible but doubtful.

She opened the frosted glass doors and heard the tinkle of a doorbell. A blast of perfume wafted over her and assaulted her nostrils. Why did the potpourri always have to smell so strong? It bordered on the offensive.

Taking a deep breath, she paused and sized up the shop. In addition to the usual assortment panties, bras, and other lingerie. She spotted racks of peculiar clothing. The mannequins that displayed them were bizarre at best. They stood atop platforms and were held in bondage. One in particular caught her eyes. It was covered in black latex and straddled a saddle. An audible humming came from it. The mannequin’s arms were bound in a double hammerlock by a forearm tube and bicep straps. She was glad they were made of plastic. If they were human, they would be in agony.

Behind the counter, she saw a cute blonde with her back to the front door. ‘A girl, perfect, I’ll have her eating out of my hand,’ thought Kristen. ‘You’re all mine.’

“Hello,” Kristine said and smiled with her eyes, “I’m your Paris Cosmetics Beauty Rep, Kristen Shaw. I was hoping to speak with the owner. We have a great line of lips gloss that actually refreshes and moistens … your … lips. Its…an…amazing—” her words trailed off into silence.

When the girl turned about Kristen could scarcely believe her eyes. The cute blonde wore a very tight black kid leather dress. She wondered how the girl every put it on in the first place. It appeared nearly seamless. It ran from her ankles to her neck with long sleeves, and it conformed to her body like a second skin. The dresseven creased every so slightly between her legs and emphasized the ‘V’ of her flat pelvis and hips.

When the girl took a step forward, Kristen winced. The shoes were the most severe she had ever seen. They were made of black paten leather and appeared more like ballet slippers. They forced the girl to stand on her tiptoes. She took a couple of mincing, penguin steps. Suddenly her hips jerked backward, and she bent forward at the waist. A cable extended out the dress from between her butt cheeks. It was securely pad locked to a U-bolt mounted to the counter.

The girl’s blue eyes looked up at Kristen through flaxen bangs. A massive red ball gag filled her mouth to capacity and a