The divine Goddess Keyholder MARQUESA always had her lingerie custom made.   The beautiful, soft, frilly, fetching, feminine fripperies which adorned & highlighted her adorable form had been made for years by a specialist lingerie designer.

Her relationship with her lingerie designer was, by its very nature, closely personal – an intimate bond.  The designer, Evelyn, a woman much like herself, was successful, confident, assured, calm – commanding even.  Evelyn was about 40, again, close to MARQUESA’S age or maybe 45, & looked younger.  The 2 women, though similar in some respects, were complete opposites physically.  Evelyn, a brunette, was short & a little on the plump side dark where MARQUESA was a tall blonde with a classical female figure, full-breasted, a narrow waist & good hips, the whole ‘package’ as she waggishly referred to herself, supported by stunning legs.

What gave pause to the idea that Evelyn might be younger was a calm air of self-assurance, suggesting a degree of maturity belying her youthful appearance.  MARQUESA, whose life-experience was considerably greater, projected an aura even more powerful – softened by a gracious air of amiable approachability & graciousness.  It was this characteristic that made MARQUESA appear even younger – her sunny disposition – the sparkle in her green eyes & the soft curve of her full, ruby-red lips always appearing about to break into a warm smile.

The women had been closely associated for years & the relationship, if not one of close friendship, was certainly based on mutual respect & warmth.  MARQUESA was pretty sure Evleyn knew what she did – what, in fact was her life-style.  Indeed, there had been passing allusions to what the delicious sexy garments might be used for – to please the wearer of course – but also the supplementary [but still important] reason, to attract & beguile a man.  Men.  Selected men.  Chosen men.  Fortunate men.  Grateful men.  Men who appreciated their good fortune in being permitted to even know that the divine female in whose company they were allowed to exist was wearing the most divine, feminine, alluring, wispy, exotic & erotic panties [‘knickers’ the English call them – such an inelegant word – not sexy at all, vulgar – ‘kiss my panties’, sounds much sexier than ‘kiss my knickers’] which clung [‘covered’ might sometimes be an inappropriate term] to the very core, the epicentre of her femininity.

She was reminded of a song from an old movie, “Silk Stockings” which she adored – both the film & the stockings.  In the film was a song “Satin & Silk” with clever lyrics & a catchy tune sung by Janis Paige – not the star, that was Cyd Charisse .  Hmmm, now she looked good in silk….  Anyway, the Janis Paige song had always amused her.  The philosophy was light-hearted with an element of truth.  Diamonds may be a girl’s best friend, but when she’s wearing silk & satin…..

“… tho she knows that boys are evil imps, yet she yearns to give those boys a glimpse…”  and “…when she’s wearing silk & satin, she flatten any Latin…”

How true.  & it was the knowing what was beneath her dress, even if no-one else did – other than Evelyn perhaps – that made her feel a million dollars.

The early days, ‘measuring & fitting’ – a rather intimate affair, had been a trifle embarrassing – not significant , but there was a certain frisson between the 2 women – each determined to be professional & objective about garments which, though minute [miniscule sometimes – not now] had a potentially devastating effect.  They both accepted that a naked female – though truly beautiful, might sometimes be given an added allure by what was hidden or partially revealed rather than what was clearly on show.  True, the overwhelming power of a naked mons, partially or wholly shaven, revealing the curve of the pudendum & alluring coral lips could be – WAS – IS so compelling that no man alive could resist its atavistic imperative.  & didn’t MARQUESA know it.

But she also revelled in the eternal female attribute of teasing.  Tantalising.  Torturing.  The power it gave her.  Watching the effect of a partial glimpse of pretty underwear on some sensitized male was fun.  More than fun.  It was power.  Knowing that he was hypnotised by her.  Not in the sense of deep mental hypnosis, though she was an expert practitioner of that as hundreds of devoted, hypnotically controlled men might attest – if they were even aware of the extent of her control over them, (& permitted by her to reveal their submission).  No, this hypnosis was as old as Eve.  The human male is hard-wired to respond instinctively to the sight of the overwhelming power & beauty of the female genitalia – even more so when the presentation is made intentionally or in such a manner as to cause confusion [& possibly heightened attraction] as to the manner of the ‘signal’ being conveyed  Each woman instinctively knew the purpose .

At one of their early meetings, Evelyn had sat with her discussing the sort of alluring underwear she created.

“Now these….”  smiled Evelyn, holding a wispy pair of soft silky panties, “… are not for what you might call ‘everyday wear’.  Tho, speaking for myself, since I make them they are not so expensive – so…”  her smile broadened,  “I …. indulge myself.  And whoever I may choose to be a beneficiary.”

MARQUESA smiled in return, looking non-committal.  “Perhaps.  For myself – &, to my mind, that’s the key I guess – for myself, I just love having beautiful lingerie whatever the occasion.  She pronounced the word in the French style ‘Lahhn ger eee’ although correct, it was a little joke of hers – like saying ‘moi’.

This subtle exchange had set the tone for the relationship between the two beautiful, successful women which had lasted for many years.  Several times, Evelyn had alluded to the purpose of some particularly alluring garment – revealing [to MARQUESA’S expert observation] a more than passing interest in where & when the garments might be worn or ‘used’ as Evelyn once revealingly described it.  The bra’s, camiknickers, petticoats & teddys & all the other delicious, exquisite, feminine paraphernalia of frothy, gossamer garments designed expertly [& with sometimes quite lascivious skill] to enhance, frame & highlight those special parts of the female body – MARQUESA’S faultless form, clearly demonstrated to MARQUESA’S satisfaction a more than merely professional involvement on Evelyn’s part.  Several times Evelyn had initiated conversations about a life-style [obviously MARQUESA’S] involving a number of men – men utilised & used for a woman’s [MARQUESA’S] purpose & pleasure – clearly [& accurately] discerning that such a woman was obviously living her life on her terms to her complete satisfaction [‘pleasure’ MARQUESA had dryly thought but left unsaid].  MARQUESA had, perhaps a little unkindly, not given Evelyn any opening, deciding that if Evelyn was seriously interested in a life-style change, she must take her first step unaided.  It had come to nothing.  Evelyn was successful & fulfilled in her career, but ever conscious that MARQUESA, despite her conservative demeanour, luxuriated in her own successful, fulfilled & blithely sensual existence which she so-evidently enjoyed with relish & exultation.

Evelyn possessed an astute observer’s skill & no doubt – in MARQUESA’S opinion – an active imagination & seemed to gain a certain vicarious pleasure in collaborating with MARQUESA in creating some of the most truly beautiful, alluring & downright erotic lingerie MARQUESA had ever seen.  Money was no object, though Evelyn never charged MARQUESA the sort of prices she obtained for other – less sensual garments from her extensive clientele.

Now, the 2 women sat in Evelyn’s office drinking Chablis & eating a salad on a ‘working lunch’ as they smilingly called it.

“So.  Bikini – of course, but not too brief.  You don’t want a piece of string.  Well, not if I understand you right.  Cover.  AND accentuation.  OK?  Say – oh 23 through, & ummm, oh – 2 inches on the hips.  That’ll be a nice cover.  & the kicker – the tighter the better.  But not necessarily stretched.  Cut on the bias perhaps, & moulded to the lab…..  Uh, the – your……”

Evelyn’s pause was almost imperceptible.  Involuntary perhaps?

“…contours.  A second skin.  Not transparent?  Do you…. still….shave?  I see.  So, no shadow.  And you want all the contours.  Yes?  I see.  How deep do you want the …”

Again, the almost imperceptible hesitation.  MARQUESA’S face remained animated & neutral – not revealing that she had noticed Evelyn’s unintentional disclosure.  ‘She’s really into this.  Driving her crazy.  But she’ll make me something that’ll drive him crazy.  It’s certainly having an interesting effect on me.  Mmmmm.’

She continued smiling at Evelyn, ostensibly unaware of anything other than a purely professional objectivity on the designer’s part.  She nodded again – as if prompting the other woman, as Evelyn continued.

“….cleft?  I can give you a cut that will go quite deep.  Highlighting the….your….the area.  Of course ……… no liner.  It would spoil the effect.  So I suggest a slightly heavier fabric – silk is so forgiving.  It will, of course, show….any ….moisture.  At all.  Even white.  But….. as they…. these……the garment – is intended for a specific….”

This time, there was a slight, though barely discernible emphasis.

“……occasion…purpose ……  perhaps that may not be contrary to the overall effect you….we…are trying to obtain.”

‘There.  You did it.  Got it all out.  Accurately.  & almost with complete aplomb.’  MARQUESA leaned forward & picked up her glass, taking a small sip carefully – her lipstick was perfect & she drank carefully as second nature.  She prolonged the silence for that vital second too long to heighten the tension & – again second nature – to demonstrate her control of the situation.

That sounds fine, Evelyn.  Not cut too high over the hips – not straight across, but not a “Y” – y’know what I mean?  As you say.  Accentuate the… my… front.  As if I was y’know….?  Bare.  But not…..”

She was suddenly struck with a wicked – teasing – thought.

“As if they were painted on…..”

Her gaze held the smaller woman.

“……and a high cut looks so inelegant across the back – even if you’re stick-thin.  And I am not.  Not that it’s meant to be seen from the rear – though…..”

MARQUESA paused, as though struck by a sudden thought.  She smiled brilliantly at Evelyn, her green eyes flashing.

“…if they’re cut quite square over my ass, the view from the back if….. when ….I leaned forward would be quite a sight.  Nothing like the front of course.  That’s what I’m after.  An observer…..”

MARQUESA made a charming moue, softened by an open smile of excitement.

“…..the observer I have in mind is susceptible to just what you’ve described.  Quite susceptible….”

Suddenly she laughed out loud.  A spontaneous, infectious, appealing laugh.  Her eyes flashed, & she tilted her head at Evelyn in a conspiratorial manner.

“….In fact, these would blow his little socks off.”

‘And give me quite a thrill to boot……’  MARQUESA thought as she grinned at Evelyn.

“Well.  I don’t know about the gu… the observer you have in mind….but these would need to issued with a safety warning.  Once he claps eyes on these, you’d better be ready for instant action.  He won’t be able to restrain himself…….. or, is that what you’re after…?  Sorry.  I don’t mean to pry.  Forget I said that.”

‘Hey, gal.  This is really getting to you….’  MARQUESA smiled.  Warmly.

“That’s OK.  Forget it.  No problem.  Let’s just say I want to make someone realise that I’m a woman.  A real woman.  All woman.  A particular woman.  & maybe, this woman may decide that that someone might become her…..  Y’know?”

Evelyn grinned back, the tension broken.  “MARQUESA, I tell you now.  You show that….lucky someone…… these.  You better be loaded for bear.  He’ll be unstoppable.  A rocket, primed & ready to go – these will send him to the moon.  I guarantee.  I have to tell you, I have never imagined anything like these.  I mean.  Hey.  I’m straight.  But seeing these on a gal… would get me going – if I weren’t jealous……  Even though I sort of created them…. it was your ideas.  Input.  I’m glad you’re not my competition.  I’d lose my clientele overnight.”

She smiled brightly.

“Now, Madame………….”  her eyes twinkled….. “coffee?  I’ll be straight back…..”

Evelyn rose & walked to the door, as MARQUESA sat in contented reverie….  she smiled, her eyes sparkling with animation.  The smile on her beautiful face changed slightly as her lips drew back in a sort of grimace, & if Evelyn had not been so distracted she might have noticed a slight narrowing of MARQUESA’S eyes into a determined glint.

‘Oh you don’t have any worries there, honey.  These are for a someone who is going to have his mind blown.  Don’t worry about him restraining himself.  I’ll do that.  Trance him, & put him in bondage.  Tight.  Real tight.  Lacing table perhaps?  Spreader stool……..?  Immobile.  Then, wake him up & have some fun.  Nipples, I love their nipples.  Especially the new ones.  CBT.  Certainly.  Electrics maybe.  Ohhhh yessss.  I can feel it already.  Then sit in front of him……Black I think.  Nice contrast with the shadow under my skirt.  Slowly.  Sooo slowly.  Get him hooked.  Begging for the curtain to go up…then just sit & watch him destroy himself – just by looking.  Like that guy – forget his name now.  Staring.  Helpless.  Demented.  Begging.  Wanting.  Needing.  Adoring.  I love it when they just collapse – the trancing helps.  But I just love the Dom stuff.  They know……..  What I’m doing to them.  Not like a trance.  Sometimes they know about that.  He doesn’t.  Really.  Sort of knows – he ain’t stupid.  But has no idea what he’s in for.  Utter submission.  I’m getting quite steamy about doing him.  He’s nothing special.  Old, too.  My god he’s 70!  But his mind.  His naughty little mind.  What an imagination.  He’s mine.  Already.  Trained him.  Taught him patience.  Obedience.  Teased him stupid.  & tranced him.  “Keyholder” was – ha! – the key.  First session & he was still in his tube.  I hadn’t realised how deep I had him.  I do now.  & he’ll go further yet.

Then “Sleep with….”  Told him to get it….he was soooo dense.  Obtuse.  I told him about the moon.  Twice!  ….thought he was French.  gave him the message – straight up.  Translate this, slave….  He got it.  Finally.  Then the personalised video.  All the implants to further my control.  Subliminals, the works.  I got quite a buzz making it.  Dressed ‘just so….’  step by step.  Breaking him.  Destroying his will to resist.  Absolute surrender. Total capitulation.  Teaching him a few “lessons” to be recited.  He learned them too.  By heart.  Tested him in first session.  Word-perfect [& ‘mind-perfect’ as well].  All that repetition.  He was well & truly mine.  Helloooo Michael.  My Pet!  My Littttle Puuuuppp pet!  Then his first session.  Set in concrete.  Finally let him see MY [to be his] panties.  Perfumed them [and how!] in session.  That was a blast.  He went crazy.  Sent them with Playtime – just to keep him warm.  Gave him a couple of sessions.  Trained him.  He knew.  Wanted it.  So did I…….  the thought of controlling him soooo completely was quite a turn-on.  Programmed him.  In session.  Video.  Decided not to use one of the girls.  He asked for an up-to-date photo.  Seen all my pics on the web.  Liked.  LIKES the one of me in smoky specs.  Hey, what the…. he LOVES me.  I was surprised that the early tapes ‘took’ so well.  Went under like a dream.  Ha.  Wanted to be my house-slave.  Hey?  What would I do with a 70 year old house-slave who lives in France [& doesn’t even speak the language]?  Nothing.  Except…………  I’m my own person.  I do what I want.  I’m a good person.  I don’t harm people.  Sure, I indulge myself with men.  But hey, they know what they’re in for.  They pay! for crying out loud.  He did.  Does.  First time I saw him in session I nearly laughed.  White hair.  Skinny – except for his little round belly.  Sooo helpless.  Just mine.  Like taking candy………….  But it was fun.  Good sessions.  I got really turned-on.  I sort of let-myself-go.  Made him watch me.  That always gets me going even more.  Him too.  Made him…. of course.  Finally.  The Keyholder.  Didn’t know what hit him.  He responded well.  Responds.  And how!  Old or not, there’s plenty of fire.  Polite.  Respectful.  Likes me.  Interesting conversations when I have the time – and anyway, he’s on-call….permanently.  I let him get to know me & I was sort-of interested in what he did.  Banker.  World-wide.  Quite funny.  Makes me laugh anyway.  Opera.  All that stuff.  Well-read.  Knows history………US history.  Interesting for an Englishman.  Talks funny.  Plumy.  But not snooty.  & he’s mine.  Utterly.  I didn’t think he was straight-up.  Loved me straight away.  Verrry susceptible to deep trancing.  Ain’t life grand.  Like a little kid.  Misses his wife.  Still.  She sure had him under control.  Lucky, I guess.  He was.  Her too.  & now he’s under control again.  MINE.  Ain’t life grand…..?

So, Mr mark shaw.  All this for you, huh?  Yup.  Why not?  It’ll be fun.  I feel a little “moisture” already.

MARQUESA smiled at Evelyn as she returned with coffee……

“Soooo.  We’re done.  Fine.  I’d like these before any of the others.  OK?  Can you have them for me by Friday?  That’s a week.  Is that enough time – I hope?”

She smiled brilliantly as Evelyn prepared to answer, already nodding her head………………..

END.