Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. Jules By flight_o_fancy Jules 01 - Game On! An introduction - and the games begin! It's her smirk that first shakes me out of my daze. That confident, almost arrogant half-smile that lets me know she caught me looking. I hadn't been purposely staring. My thoughts of her aren't the type that should evoke the embarrassment that I feel. I'm a card-carrying heterosexual female, after all. But there is something about this woman that wouldn't let me look away. My gaze had settled on her unconsciously as I sat in my favorite sandwich shop, eating my lunch. I'd been trying to stop myself from slipping into the mire of self-pity that I've found myself in so often of late. I caught my boyfriend, Paul, cheating on me three weeks ago, leaving my self-esteem in tatters. We had been going through a rough patch, and Paul complained that I was not spontaneous enough... not adventurous enough... boring. Paul would like the woman in front of me. There's nothing boring about her. I can't help but compare myself to her. If you look at individual features, we're actually very similar: Same height - around 5' 4", same slim build with a few curves where it counts, same dark features and shoulder-length, wavy hair. Even our facial features aren't too dissimilar, once you really look. But taken as a whole, the effect is totally different. She's everything I'm not. And the things that I am, she turns up to eleven. Whereas I'm quiet and reserved, she practically shimmers. I keep myself in reasonable shape, but she's sleek and toned. I dress for comfort; she is stylish, even a bit edgy. I'm presentable, but she is captivating. I can pull off cute, but she is effortlessly sexy. Sexy as hell. She's the version of me I wish I saw in the mirror. I can feel the jealousy building. In the weeks leading up to the break up, I had sensed Paul pull away and grow distant. I tried to put more into our relationship: more attention, more space, more understanding, more sex. In the end, what I'd really sensed was Paul hooking up with the fresh-faced new admin at his work. I catch myself thinking that if I was more like the version of me smirking back from across the room, Paul wouldn't have wandered. God, I hate that smirk! That smirk dared me to break eye contact, which is exactly what I did. I blushed slightly and dropped my gaze... just for a moment. When I looked up, she was gone. "Pull yourself together, Jules!" I chastise myself. I consider the half-eaten sandwich in front of me and am just about to get up to leave. "Can I join you?" The voice is light and playful, with a hint of challenge. It has the same confidence as that damn smirk. I don't even have to look up to know it's her. She sits down across the table before I can answer. "Uh, s... sure" I stammer out, cringing at how meek I sound. "Thanks! You looked like you could use some company." The last thing I want is her company. I compose myself a little better, and steel my nerves to send her packing. Looking up to meet her gaze, I... fold. Had I misread her? Where I saw arrogance before, I see only concern and compassion. Her face has the warmth of an old friend. "Company would be nice." I hear my voice say. "My name's Jules, by the way." The smile returns as she extends her hand. "What a coincidence, my friends call me J." It turns out, J is exactly the company I need. I find myself opening up to her as a friend and confidant. I tell her about Paul, about his affair, and even about the comparisons I was making to her previously. We talk for 30 minutes or more, me laying myself bare and her offering comfort and encouragement. Finally, she looks me square in the eye and says "You need to stop selling yourself short. All those things you think you see in me are in you, too. You just need to break out of your cocoon and spread your wings, Little Butterfly. And I think I can help you." "How's that?" I'm skeptical, to say the least. "Let's play a little game. Close your eyes." She stands and walks behind me. I close my eyes as she begins to gently rub my shoulders, the public contact making me self-concious. "Just relax," she whispers in my ear. I feel the tension start to melt away as she continues to work on my knotted muscles. Her upbeat attitude is contagious and I find myself more at ease in her presence. "Put your hands on the table in front of you." As I do so, I feel her hands start to gently travel down my arms, her face next to mine. "Take some deep breaths, that's good," The softness of her touch... The warmth of her breath on my ear... It's intoxicating. I let out a small sigh that only she can hear. Somehow, I sense her smile at that. I slide even deeper under her spell. "Now, when I count to three, open your eyes. One..." Her hands have traveled all the way down my arms and are gently pressing mine to the table. I feel her cheek against my own as her perfume fills my nose. "Two..." I shiver slightly as I feel her lips lightly touch my ear. Somehow not knowing if the contact was intentional makes it even more exciting. "Three..." Reluctantly, my eyelids drift apart. I am wrapped in the warmth of her presence and I am acutely aware of her breath on my neck and her face next to mine. My vision slowly comes into focus and I see a fiftyish man at the next table watching me curiously. I start to tense up, but I feel J's hands still holding my own. She gives them a reassuring squeeze. "Here's the game" She breathes calmly in my ear. "I'm going to show you how sexy and badass you really are. Keep your hands where they are." I relax a bit, and feel her hands start to slowly travel back up my arms. The hairs on my forearm stand on end with her touch. "Look at that man at the next table. Hold his eyes with your own". Her hands are back at my shoulders. I lock eyes with the man at the next table as I feel a tug at the collar of my blouse. I look down to see that J is twisting the top button between her fingertips. This button is already undone, but somehow this still feels provocative. "Don't break eye contact." She whispers firmly as the pressure on the button continues. I raise my eyes back to the man, powerless to do otherwise. He's watching me intently now. J increases the pressure on the button as I wonder where this is going. With a quick tug, I feel the button give. J reaches past me and places it on my plate with a slight "plink". "Keep watching him, own his attention." The room fades away and all I see is the man staring back. His eyebrows raise as I feel a tug of movement on the next button. "Feel his desire," She starts to twist, and the man's face begins to flush. My breathing becomes heavier. I know I should put a stop to this, but my hands remain glued to the table in front of me. "What is he imagining right now?" J asks as she continues to work the button back and forth on its threads. "How far will he let this go?" I see a bead of sweat form on the man's forehead, but his attention is unwavering. The threads finally fail, and I feel my blouse gape a bit more. The button goes on the plate with the same plinking sound. "Uh uh, eyes on your biggest fan," J admonishes as I start to drop my gaze to my blouse. My head is in a fog and I can't do anything but obey. My current state is far from scandalous, but the air is charged with anticipation. Mine, the man's and J's. His mouth slacks open as his eyes dart back and forth between my eyes and my blouse. I let out a small gasp as I feel J's fingertips graze my breasts ever so lightly over my blouse. She circles one finger slowly around my nipple, bringing it to a sharp point. My mind is screaming at me to stop, but it's drowned out by the thrill of the moment. The man leans forward, subconsciously trying to bring himself closer to the scene unfolding before him. "Maybe one more...Mmmm...What do you think?" I feel J's lips brush my ear as she starts to twist the button. I don't answer. I CAN'T answer. "Promise me that you won't fix your blouse..." "I..." The pull on the button increases. The man's eyes are locked on my chest. The three of us are all that exist. "Promise me that you'll follow the instincts that are waking inside you..." J pulls and twists the button harder with one hand. With the other, she gently pinches my nipple through my blouse. The man looks like he's forgotten how to breathe. "I..." I feel J's tongue glide up the side of my neck. "Promise that you'll play the game..." The man fades from view as all of my senses turn inward. I'm not sure if my eyes are closed or open. My breath is ragged. I can smell my own arousal. I desire, more than anything, for J's touch to continue. To feel her mouth on mine. To feel her fingers on my body. Third button twists free from my blouse. My hands are shaking on the table. "I..." J's hand slides under the opening of my blouse. I feel her fingers slip under my bra. I arch my back, pushing out my breasts to meet them. My nipples are rock hard points under her fingertips. I barely hear the "plink" of the button on the plate through the rush of blood in my ears. J twists my nipple like the buttons before it. Time stretches out and slows to a crawl. The crescendo of sensations builds, blocking out any conscious thought. My entire being is a single, exposed nerve begging for her touch. "I... promise." Reality crashes back down around me. The din of the busy cafe swells up around me. With the spell broken, the man across from me drops his gaze in embarrassment and hurries away from his table. I look around and spot several other patrons staring at me in various shades of amusement, desire and disgust. J is nowhere to be found. I sit in shock for a moment before I notice one of the cafe employees walking towards me with an unapproving expression. I grab the three buttons from the plate in front of me and race for the door. I swear I hear J's voice in my mind... "Game On!" Jules 02 - Bar Games The journey continues, the stakes are raised. As I make my escape from the sandwich shop, I take stock of my appearance. I'm missing the top three buttons of my blouse. If I'm not careful, my bra will slip into view. Overall, the look is not really appropriate for the office and certainly out of character for me, but not likely to get me fired or show up in the tabloids. People wear worse in public all the time. People other than me, that is. I'm not a prude or anything. I just tend to dress more conservatively and not try to draw too much attention to myself. I work as a developer for a small software company that serves the financial services industry. It's certainly nothing glamorous, but it pays the bills. I work on a five person dev team that sits in a mostly forgotten corner of the building. Best of all, our manager works in another city, so we're mostly left to our own devices. Kim, the only other woman on the team, is the first to note my wardrobe distress. "Hey Jules, what happened to your shirt?" She asks a little too loudly for my comfort. "Oh, I caught it on something over lunch and pulled off a few buttons." It was the best I could come up with on the spot. "I figured Davis was in town and you're gunning for a promotion or something." She quipped, still loudly. "Nothing so tawdry." I roll my eyes. Several heads pop up from neighboring cubes to watch the commotion, which I suspect is Kim's goal. Despite being teammates for over a year, I haven't been able to get a good read on Kim. There seems to be some unspoken tension between us. I don't know if I did something to offend her, if she views me as competition as another woman, or if she just generally doesn't like me. But she is definitely not as friendly towards me as to the others on the team. "Do you want a safety pin or something?" asks Rick, the youngest member of our team. Rick is a genuinely nice guy and I took this as an honest attempt to help preserve my modesty. "I think she shouldn't need to hide from you guys. If you can't handle a bra strap, that's on you." Kim is addressing the guys, but looks directly at me as she says it. It feels like a challenge, but I'm still frazzled from my lunchtime encounter and can't be bothered to try to decipher her bullshit. "Don't sweat it," I reply. "I'm not worried about it if you're not." And truth be told, I'm not worried about it. The guys on the team are pretty harmless. Rick is the only one who isn't married and, like I said, he's a good guy. He's young and a bit socially awkward, fitting the computer geek stereotype a little too closely. I catch him stealing glances down my blouse a couple of times, but it's more endearing than creepy. I've never heard him mention a girlfriend, and suspect he is pretty inexperienced with women. The fact that he keeps trying to catch a peek, and then seems embarrassed by it, feels like a harmless little ego boost. Jacob and Dan, the remaining two team members, don't seem to care about my wardrobe issue. At one point I forget myself and bend forward in front of Dan, giving him an eyeful. But he looks away pretty quickly and doesn't say anything, so I don't mention it. There's more to it, though. The encounter with J over lunch has me pretty worked up. And by that, I mean horny. The little teases that I've given to Rick and Dan have stoked those fires a little more. But the office is not the right place for such thoughts. I'm not generally one for casual hook-ups so I vow to spend some quality time with myself when I get home. The rest of the day passes without issue. As I'm head down, finishing up my work for the day, Kim walks up behind me. "Hey Miss Wardrobe Malfunction, are you coming to Barry's with us?" The team has a Friday afternoon tradition. We push hard during the week so we can usually knock off a bit early on Friday afternoon. Those who can will head to the neighborhood pub, Barry's, for a happy hour. I haven't been in the last few weeks. After breaking up with Paul, I just haven't been feeling very social. Kim sees me grimace at her joke and softens. "Hey, sorry. I'm just yanking your chain. You should come out. First rounds on me." I'm not convinced of her intentions, but we've always managed to be civil in the past. And given this day, and the last few weeks, a few drinks and some camaraderie sound like just the ticket. "That actually sounds really good, but I've got a couple of things to finish up. You all go ahead and I'll meet you there." An hour later, I walk into Barry's and spot the rest of the team at our usual booth. It's rare that all five of us make it, so it's a bit of a squeeze at the table. Dan and Jacob, being the biggest of the team, are on one side. Rick and Kim are on the other. As I arrive, Kim heads to the bar reminding me that she owes me a drink. Everyone else is deep into their first round. I sit down next to Rick and join the conversation. Before long, Kim returns with a pair of beers and a pair of shots. I scoot closer to Rick to let her sit at the end of the booth. She puts one beer in front of herself and slides the rest in front of me. "You have some catching up to do." She offers. I look at her dubiously. "I know you've had a rough time lately, so consider them a peace offering. Anything to get you to relax." I still don't know what she's up to, but I feel the need to cut loose a bit. I down the first shot and chase it with a sip of beer. "Besides," she says as I grab the second shot, "Rick is hoping to get a few drinks in you and get you the rest of the way out of that shirt." Dan and Jacob snicker, but Rick looks like he's about to panic. "I didn't... I'm not..." he stammers. "It's okay Rick, it's just a bad joke" I say soothingly before turning to Kim. Kim tends to have a big mouth, and not much of a filter. We all usually just ignore her, but today I decide to fire back. "I don't know, Kim. You're the one who seems obsessed with my blouse. I think you're the one trying to check out the goods." Dan and Jacob laugh loudly, but Kim seems to darken at the slight. I don't know if she just doesn't like being the butt of the joke, or if I'm hitting a little close to home. Kim has never really talked about her dating life, but her aggressive personality and tomboyish style are enough to get her labeled as a lesbian in some crowds. I suspect she either is one, or is tired of being called one. Either way, it's none of my business. In an attempt to make peace, I hold up the second shot glass. "Here's to losing my shirt!" Dan and Jacob whoop enthusiastically. Rick laughs, but I catch a little redness in his cheeks. Even Kim seems pacified. Mission accomplished. We all talk, drink, laugh and carouse. I still catch Rick paying a little too much attention to my blouse. Kim still makes cracks at my expense, but it seems more good natured than before. I'm normally pretty reserved at these gatherings, choosing to keep things on a professional level. I also usually limit myself to a glass of wine, or two at most. I definitely feel like I'm stepping out of my comfort zone today. I don't know if it's the alcohol, the attention to my exposure, or the emotional hangover after my breakup with Paul. But I can feel the usual walls of propriety tumbling down and I make a conscious decision to relax and enjoy myself. Soon Dan and Jacob finish their drinks and leave to join their families, but the remaining three of us decide to have another round. Rick volunteers to switch to soda and act as their designated driver. He's been nursing a single beer all afternoon anyway. I head to the bar to get the drinks and that's when I see her. In the mirror behind the bar, J smiles back from behind me. I turn to face her, but she's not there. No one is. I scan the pub. It's still pretty early, probably 3 PM or so, and the place is almost empty. Aside from our table, there's only one group of four guys that I vaguely recognize as regulars. No J to be found, and not many places to hide. Weird. I grab the drinks and return to the table, wondering if I'd lost my mind or just had too much to drink. I had intended to sit in one of the seats that Dan and Jacob left open, but Kim stands up and motions for me to take my previous spot between her and Rick. "Did you guys see someone that looks like me, only... you know... hot?" Kim laughs, trying not to spit out her beer. "This is you fishing for a compliment, right? 'Oh no, you are the hot one'. I'm not falling for it." Rick seems to want to defend my honor or something, but holds his tongue. "No, nothing like that." I reply, still looking around. "At lunch today, I met this woman. She goes by 'J'..." "J?" asks Rick. "Yeah, J. She looks a lot like me, only like the version of me that I wish I was. Like if I imagined my best, most badass, beautiful self." As I say this out loud, I start to realize how crazy it sounds. "I thought I saw her in the mirror at the bar, but now I don't see her." "Let me get this straight. You met a woman, with the same initial as you, who is your perfect version of you, then you saw her in the mirror, but now you don't see her?" Kim was trying to stifle her laughter. "I know it sounds crazy..." "I think you lost your marbles when you lost your buttons!" Kim cackled. "Did I mention you need to relax?!?" My cheeks went warm thinking about how I lost those buttons. I am typically one to keep any hints of sexuality under wraps when in public. The display I made at J's hands over lunch and my subsequent exposure to my coworkers, mild as it may be, is new territory for me. Moreover, I feel the reawakening of my own desires. I had grown accustomed to the increased level of sexual activity with Paul in an attempt to save our relationship. When that relationship failed, my sexual outlet disappeared with it. I had buried my desires under layers of self-doubt, self-pity and generally self-destructive emotions. Now, I feel them start to push back up to the surface - in a big way. I shake my head to clear these thoughts. Perhaps I do need to find a new boyfriend to scratch that itch, but now I'm out with coworkers. Who knows, with our new found camaraderie, maybe I'll even call them friends. By this point, I'm riding a bit of an emotional high. Compared to the darkness of the past month, I'm in paradise. I'm also a bit tipsy. I reach out and take Rick and Kim's hands in my own. "Hey guys, at the risk of sounding too corny, I'm having a great time. Things have been a bit rough for me lately and this has been exactly what I need. Thanks." "Yeah," Kim says with a casual smile. "This is fun. We've certainly seen a side of you that we haven't seen before." "I think it's safe to say that Kim is trying to see a side of you she hasn't seen before." Rick adds. We're so surprised that Rick would make a joke like this that there are a couple of beats of silence. Then Kim and I both crack up. "Well played" she quips. "But it's purely for your benefit, I assure you." Rick looks embarrassed again at Kim's response, and all seems right with the world. "Speaking of which..." Kim says with a sly grin. I'm still holding hands with both of them,, enjoying our newfound kinship. Kim reaches across with her free hand and opens another button on my blouse. "KIM!" I shriek, and then catch myself. I don't want to call undo attention to my predicament. Kim is still holding my right hand tightly in hers and I'm too shocked to untangle my left hand from Rick. My blouse is now open almost to my navel. "Oh, relax. It's nothing we haven't been looking at all afternoon." She giggles. I manage to free my hands and clutch my blouse closed. She fixes me with a mischievous grin and says "I dare you to leave it like that." "What's gotten into you?" I try to glare at her, but through the alcohol fueled good vibes I find myself giggling instead. "Oh, what the hell. I suppose Rick deserves a little thrill for offering to DD." With that, I turn to face him and pull the lapels of my blouse wide. My chest isn't large, just a b cup, and my bra is more utilitarian than enticing. But my tummy is flat and Paul used to tell me my 'tits are nice and perky'. Regardless, Rick's eyes go wide and his cheeks flush deeply at my display. I allow myself a moment to bask in the attention and then pull the blouse closed. Holding my blouse closed with my hand, I turn to give a coy look to Kim. "But no show for you, young lady, until you learn to behave." Kim pouts sarcastically as I excuse myself to visit the ladies room. I drop my hands to my side and walk tipsily to the restroom. I don't even consider closing my blouse. I spend a few minutes in the bathroom stall reliving the last few moments and relieving my bladder. Once finished, I open the stall door and stop dead in my tracks. J is sitting casually on the bathroom counter, idly swinging one foot back and forth. She hops to her feet and begins to walk slowly towards me. Her eyes flick down to my open blouse and her wicked smirk returns. "Hello, my Little Butterfly," she purrs. "I see you have been busy spreading your wings." With that, she tugs the sides of my blouse wider and eyes my chest appraisingly. "J? What are you doing here?" My arms, which should be covering my chest,, hang limply by my side. "I was just in the neighborhood. Imagine my surprise to find you here... like this." I don't believe that for a moment and begin to sense danger. But I remain passive as she guides me to the mirror and stands behind me. "I think you're ready for the next round of the game. But you can't be a true butterfly looking like this." I raise my eyes to the mirror, and am surprised at just how disheveled I've become. Strands of hair have pulled loose from my ponytail and stick out in all directions. My sensible makeup is looking a bit road worn. Not to mention my blouse, which hangs open lewdly. "Let's get you fixed up." Seemingly from nowhere, she produces a makeup bag. I stand limply as she goes to work, occasionally cooing approvingly in my ear. Soon, my lips are a deep shade of red, my eyes lined and shadowed with a dusky tone. Mascara and blush are tastefully applied. The transformation is striking. I usually wear as little makeup as I can get away with. But the woman staring back in the mirror belongs on a runway. J drops the makeup bag into my purse and pulls out a hairbrush. She hands the brush to me and takes her place behind me. I hold the brush limply and she pulls the band off of my ponytail and runs her fingers through my hair. "Getting better..." she whispers as she guides my hand with the brush up to my head. I'm in a daze and I begin to pull the brush through my hair. My surroundings fade away and J is the only thing I'm aware of. A sense of longing swells inside me. I long for her approval... for her touch. "Beautiful." As I brush my hair dreamily, she slides her hand around to the remaining buttons on my blouse. Time slides forward as she nibbles on my now bare shoulder. My senses drift through a fog of alcohol, arousal and whatever sway she has over me. "Mmmmm..." she murmurs as my blouse and bra fall away completely. "Come with me" she pulls me towards the stall, brush still in my hand. She closes the toilet lid and sits me down on it. "First things first..." She pulls my phone from my purse and I'm barely aware of unlocking it for her. "Here's my number. Now, smile..." CLICK. I hear the shutter sound of my camera. She brings my empty hand to my bare breast and I start to grope and squeeze. "Yes..." I'm not sure if that is my voice or hers. I feel her tongue lightly play over my nipple, bringing it to a point. CLICK. "You want this..." My consciousness feels detached from my body, like I'm viewing the scene in third person. Through the fog, I see J's fingers at my waistband. She guides me to lift myself slightly and I feel my pants slide off of my hips. CLICK, "You need this..." My panties pool around my ankles as I feel J's breath on the inside of my thigh. "It's been so long for you..." I look at her dreamily, as she takes hold of my other hand - the one still holding the hairbrush. "Shhhhh... close your eyes" I have no choice but to obey. "Give yourself the release that you deserve." I feel something warm and hard at the opening of my sex. I realize she is guiding the handle of the brush, still in my hand, inside of me. "Just let yourself go..." I let out a small gasp as the handle pushes past the lips of my sex. I pause for a moment with the brush inside of me before I slowly start to move it back and forth. "That's it. Enjoy yourself. You've earned it." And with that, J fades from my senses. My eyes are still closed tightly. My whole body focuses on the brush sliding in and out of me. On my fingers pinching and pulling my nipples sharply. I feel my desire build within me. I've been pushing it down for so long, and all of the repressed urges overwhelm me. I feel my pulse quicken, my breath become ragged. I'm pistoning the brush at a steady pace as a squelching sound fills the room. I move my other hand from my breasts to my clit and start to rub it furiously. My long denied orgasm is building quickly, pushing past any defenses that remain. I rush headlong towards the relief that I need. All of the sadness, anger and frustration from the past weeks is focused to my core. I'm teetering on the edge, closer and closer to my release. Eyes still closed, I feel rather than see the clouds part, the sunshine on my face, the breeze against my skin. As my orgasm crashes over me, all of my senses fade to black. The last thing I hear as I slip from consciousness is the sound of Kim's voice. "Jesus, Jules, What the fuck!!?!" Jules 03 - The Aftermath What the hell was that? I awaken with a start and sit up in a sense of panic. I'm back at home, in my own bed, dressed in my normal sleep shirt and very confused. I look over to find Kim laying next to me, still fully dressed from the pub and looking at me with a mix of concern and amused relief. "Hey there, how are you feeling?" She asks. "Ugh!" It's all I can muster. My throat is like sandpaper and my head is pounding. A quick glance at the clock tells me it's a little after midnight. I drop my head into my hands in an attempt to silence the throbbing. I spend a moment taking stock of everything and memories of the previous day come crashing home. "Oh, god..." I force myself to look at Kim through my fingers. "So... uh... you gave us quite a scare earlier. Are you okay?" "I think so. I feel like I got hit by a truck." My head is slowly clearing. "Um... what happened?" I'm not sure I want to know the answer. "I found you in the ladies room... acting strangely." I blush deeply at the connotation. "Your clothes were scattered around the bathroom and you were... I think you... uh... came and then passed out." Uncharacteristically, Kim is having to search for her words. She seems conflicted between wanting to poke fun at me and wanting to wrap me protectively in her arms. "I helped you get dressed and then Rick drove us all back to your place. You were pretty out of it. We didn't want to leave you, so I helped you to bed. Rick is asleep out on your couch." I don't bother asking how I got undressed for bed. I figure by this point it doesn't really matter. "What did you tell Rick?" My humiliation is building. There's no way he would understand any of this. "I just told him you were sick. He was pretty freaked." "Was there anyone else in there?" "No, I don't think anyone else saw you. I'm pretty sure we were the only women in the place." That's reassuring, but not exactly what I asked. What had happened to J? How does she keep disappearing? Kim looks at me for a long moment, trying to avoid the elephant in the room. "So... why were you..." she leaves the question unfinished. "I..." What can I tell her? That my doppelganger snuck into the bathroom and seduced me? That she stripped me in a public restroom and had me masturbate with a hairbrush? That I came so hard I passed out? That I'm powerless in her presence? I feel my arousal flare up at that last thought. Am I really that weak? Or am I that depraved? "I don't know. It's like I couldn't help myself. I feel like I'm going crazy!" "Maybe someone slipped something in your drink?" she offers. "Maybe. That's as likely as anything." "Do you want to call the police? Or go to a hospital?" I pause to consider my options. I don't think I'm hurt. No physically, at least. I don't know what good a hospital would do. I don't think I could face the embarrassment of going to the police. What would I even tell them? "No, I think I just need to rest and put this whole thing behind me." We chat for a while longer as I try to convince her that I'm okay. Eventually we head out to the front room and wake up Rick. I apologize and thank them both profusely for taking care of me and then send them on their way. Moments later, I'm back in bed. My sleep is fitful, broken by fragments of visions. I can't tell dreams from reality or memory from fantasy. I see me pleasuring myself in the bathroom. I see myself walking between Kim and Rick from the pub with my arms around them for support. I hear them laughing and feel their groping hands play over my body. I hear myself moan as Kim holds me down on my bed with her tongue at my sex. I hear Rick grunt as his hard length slides into me. Consciousness returns slowly as the light of morning pours in my window. I lie in bed trying to make some kind of sense out of the last 24 hours. Failing to do so, I crawl out of bed for coffee and a shower. I spot my phone and purse on the kitchen counter where Kim had left it. The handle of the brush pokes out tauntingly, where it had been hastily shoved into the purse. Christ, was that really me yesterday? I decide I need some answers. I pick up the phone and text the number J had given me. "Can we meet?" The reply is immediate. "Good morning, Little Butterfly. I trust you got some rest." I'm really not in the mood for this. "I need to talk to you." "Sure thing, love. Just tell me where and when." I don't want her to know where I live, and I don't trust going back to the sandwich shop from yesterday. We settle on a coffee shop next to a nearby shopping mall. She's already waiting at a table when I arrive, so I get a cup of coffee and join her. The contrast in our appearances couldn't be more pronounced. She is dressed in a casually trendy skirt and top, hair and makeup understated but perfectly executed. I, on the other hand, am a mess. I'm wearing sweatpants and a formless t-shirt, no makeup and my hair looks like I just rolled out of bed. "Oh dear," she laughs as I take my seat. "Looks like someone had a rough night." She gives me a wink and a knowing grin. "Very funny. What the hell was that?" "What was what?" "Whatever you did to me yesterday." "As I recall, I didn't do anything to you except fix your makeup. Which, incidentally, you could use another hand with. " I look at her impatiently. "Everything else, you did to yourself. And you didn't do anything that you didn't desperately need. How long has it been since you left ol' what's-his-name?" "Paul, and that's none of your business. Look, I don't go around doing THAT in public restrooms. Or anywhere else..." "Well, maybe that's the problem." There's that damn smirk again. Then she straightens. "After everything you've been through, you deserve to let loose a little. You can't tell me you didn't enjoy it." Memories come flooding back, and I flush with my arousal. "That's what I thought." She added, watching me squirm a little, before I'm able to compose myself. "Okay J, cut the crap. You waltz into my life yesterday and all of a sudden I'm parading around half naked and getting myself off in public restrooms." She gives a little grin as I catch the fact that I'm practically shouting this in public. I continue more softly "You're acting like nothing's out of the ordinary, but I need to know what's going on!" She looks me in the eye, appraising my resolve. A moment later, her face softens. The cheeky arrogance is replaced by compassion. "Okay look. You're wound up tighter than a piano wire. Between your moping around over this Paul character, your sexual frustration and your complete inability to relax, something had to give. I just gave you a little push. I'll admit, you took it a little farther than I thought you would. But you NEEDED that." I looked at her expectantly. There has to be more to it. "I can't tell you everything that's going on in that pretty little head of yours. Only you can. I can tell you that sitting in that restroom, you looked truly alive for the first time since I met you." I don't say anything as I consider what she's said. "What do you say we get out of here? You look like shit, to put it bluntly. If we're going to be friends, I can't have you cramping my style. Let's get you sorted out." She takes my hand and stands up. Against my better judgment, I let her lead me out into the street. "I promise you this, Little Butterfly. If you stick with me, all of your questions will be answered in time." Jules 04 - Mall Games Jules gets some retail therapy and the games continue. Against my better judgment, I find myself driving J to the nearby shopping mall. It turns out, what she meant by "sorting me out" includes a new wardrobe. My conservative work wear and weekend comfort clothes apparently don't pass muster. I'll admit, I haven't allowed myself any retail therapy in a long time. And did she say we are friends? I feel a little flutter in my stomach when I think of that. It's like I'm back at school and the coolest girl in class just said she likes me. Her charismatic charm and easy going personality push past any reluctance I have. Perhaps this will be just what the doctor ordered. The next few hours are a blur of shopping and laughing. J helps me pick out several sets of work clothes - fitted blouses - some slightly sheer, hip-hugging slacks that show off my backside, and even a couple of skirts. J's eye and sense of style are impeccable. Everything she picks is flattering, even sexy, while still being appropriate for the office. I can't wait to see the team's reaction on Monday. We also pick out a few new bras and panties. J chides me about the utilitarian underwear that she's seen on me. I'd love to say that she hasn't seen my best, but I'd be lying. J also selects one bright red thong, which she assures me is for special occasions. Next up are shoes. Two pairs of tasteful heels and a set of cute, strappy sandals. The sandals stay on my feet and my road worn sneakers go into the bag. Eventually we find ourselves in a trendy little boutique, looking at casual wear. I've always fallen back on baggy t-shirts and blue jeans, but a stern look from J lets me know that they are unacceptable. Soon, I'm in the fitting room changing into a little, yellow sundress. The dress fits snugly around my torso, fastened by a row of buttons up the entire front. From the hips, it flares out widely allowing the fabric to move freely around my legs. It hits just above the knee, and provides enticing flashes of thigh as it swishes around. Two spaghetti straps leave my arms and shoulders almost completely bare and the dress is cut low enough to reveal the initial swell of my modest cleavage. The bright floral pattern serves to catch the eye. I step out of the fitting room into a small alcove that is still largely hidden from prying eyes. J is leaning against the wall casually waiting, while a young clerk is busy gathering garments to fold or hang. J lets out an exasperated sigh at the way my unflattering bra spills out from under the dress. I appraise myself in the mirror and have to admit the dress is a stunner. But, the amount of bra that shows around the edges reinforces just how much skin it doesn't cover. J walks up behind me, standing between me and the sales clerk. She places her hands on my shoulders possessively. Suddenly, my mind leaps back to yesterday in the restroom, and the hairs on my neck stand on end. "Tsk...tsk..." she whispers playfully in my ear. "This will never do." Her hands drop down from my shoulders to where the top of my bra is jutting out from underneath the dress. She hooks her fingers loosely around the bra straps and slowly slides her hands upwards, grazing the skin above my breasts with the backs of her knuckles. The contact is ever so slight, but leaves a trail of goose bumps in its wake. When she reaches the tops of my shoulders, she begins to draw the straps down until they hang limply over my arms. "Won't do at all..." she breathes as she reaches in front of me to open the top button of the dress and then a second. I close my eyes and indulge in the feeling of J's breath on my neck and the closeness of her face to mine. Whenever I'm with her, I feel like a passenger. I'm just along for the ride that is my life, powerless to change course. Her hands draw slowly back over my shoulders as she begins to purr. My breath catches as her teeth close on my earlobe in a playful nip. "Ask her to help," she whispers in a conspiratorial tone and then backs away out of view. The sales clerk is young, probably fresh out of college, and very pretty. She has a bit of mischief to her smile, which only occasionally peaks out from beneath the layers of professionalism. She keeps herself busy with the discarded garments, but I notice her glancing my way more than once. She may just be doing her job, but her gaze seems to linger a touch longer than strictly necessary. "Um, could you give me a hand?" I try to make a show of struggling to reach the clasp of the bra under the dress. It's an act, of course. What woman reaches adulthood without the ability to remove her bra in all sorts of situations. I suspect the sales girl knows this, but decides to play along. "My pleasure," the young woman replies as she steps behind me. "Yeah, that bra definitely does NOT work with the dress," she chides. I'm still facing the mirror and watching her reflection. I notice her eyes catch on the two open buttons. It's not lost on me that she is standing exactly where J stood moments ago. "No? I was thinking I could start a trend." Was I flirting? I've always regarded myself as firmly in the heterosexual camp. I never even had the drunken displays of kissing other girls which seemed so popular when I was in college. But I've certainly had lots of sexual tension over the last two days with J, and even with Kim to a lesser extent. Maybe I'm just enjoying the attention, maybe J has me completely wound up, or just maybe that barrier is starting to crumble. Whatever the reason, I feel more than a little flutter in my stomach... among other places. I force myself not to gasp as I feel her fingers lightly touch my back. "If anyone could do it, I'm sure you could." She slowly pulls the back of the dress away from my body, probably further than is necessary to reach the clasp. The open buttons allow the front of the dress to spread teasingly from the pressure. "But I suspect I'll like the look better without it." That definitely sounded like flirting. The sales girl's movements were unhurried, almost languid. I feel like they, and she, have mesmerized me. She takes hold of the bra on either side of the clasp and eases it open, letting her knuckles graze across my back in the process. Still holding the garment, she waits wordlessly for my response. I'm too busy savoring the moment to move. I stand paralyzed, afraid that any movement will shatter the spell of the moment. She guides one arm, then the other, out of the dangling straps. At last, she reaches one hand around me to take hold of the bra and slowly starts to pull it up and out of the dress. My nipples go rock hard as the material scrapes across them. Finally free of the dress, the bra falls to our feet, discarded. We both take a long moment to stare at my reflection in the mirror. One strap dangles loosely over my shoulder, dislodged by the previous actions, and the half-open dress threatens to fall away from my right breast completely. A flush of arousal spreads from my face across my partially exposed chest. I breathe heavily, causing my chest to rise and fall enticingly. "Wow," The sales girl says, still waiting for me to break out of the spell. But I'm too far gone. "You look amazing in that dress." I smile at the compliment. She slowly runs her hand up and down my arms with surprising familiarity. Her touch is tantalizingly light. "If you'd like, I could show you some strapless bras to wear with it. Or..." she licks her lips provocatively. "... you could just go without." "Which do you like better?" I ask, perhaps a bit too excitedly. "Definitely without." She loops a finger though the fallen strap. For just a moment, she tugs downward on the strap, bringing my nipple into view. Then she draws the strap up my shoulder, covering me once again. The young clerk steps away from me, and I slowly return to reality. "Is there anything else I can help you with?" she asks invitingly. "God, yes!" I scream in my mind. Straight or not, I have never wanted anyone more. But I sense that this encounter is over. I turn to face her and say reluctantly "No, I think that will be all. Thank you for your help..." My eyes drop down to her name tag. I can't help but notice the hard points of her nipples poking salaciously through her shirt. It's my turn to let my gaze linger a little too long. "...Lisa". "You're very welcome. Find me when you're ready to check out." And with one more wicked smile, she turns and heads back into the rest of the store. I feel J's presence behind me. "Tell her you'll wear it out. And trash the bra." J walks past me, out of the store and into the mall. I take a moment to calm down, then pay for the dress. Once outside, J says we have one more thing to take care of. She takes my hand and leads me to the ladies room. I stop short of the door, remembering the events of the previous day. J rolls her eyes. "Come on, I won't bite... this time," and drags me in. J guides me to the mirror and produces the same makeup bag as before. And again, she skillfully applies the makeup. The effect this time it's more fun and flirty and less smoldering vixen. "Last but not least," she says. "You need to fix your hair." In her outstretched hand is my hairbrush, with its handle pointing accusingly at me. J gives me that same damn smirk as I reluctantly take hold of the brush. All of my nerves are standing on end as I can't help but replay, well... everything from the past day in my mind. But sometimes a brush is just a brush. J whistles approvingly as I study myself in the mirror. I'm unrecognizable from just a few hours ago. The dress is casually stylish and shows off my shape in an enticing way. The makeup compliments the look, and invites attention to my glossy lips. My hair flows silkily down to my shoulders. "One final touch," she says, as she runs her hands up my legs and under my dress. She slides my unflattering underwear down until they pool at my feet. I obediently step out of them, one foot at a time. She hands me the bright red thong and watches me put it on. Then she picks up my discarded panties and drops them in the trash with a scoff. Standing to my side, J turns my head towards her with her fingertip on my chin. She runs her finger tips down my cheek, then slowly down my neck. I am completely enthralled by her gaze as she hooks one finger under the strap of my dress and slowly draws me towards her. My eyes drift close and my mouth opens in anticipation of the kiss that is sure to follow. Instead, I once again feel her breath on my ear. "You look good enough to eat... Little Butterfly." And with that, she ushers me back out to the mall. I need a few minutes to put my mind back together, so we drop the bags in the car and head to the food court. J isn't hungry, so offers to find a table while I get my food. Out of all the time I've spent with her, I don't think I've ever seen her with as much as a glass of water. Does this woman ever eat? Maybe that's how she stays so toned. One uninspiring salad later, I have my arousal and my hunger in check. We chat lightly about the day's purchases and anticipate everyone's reactions. Finally, that damn smirk returns as she says "It's time for the next round of the game." "What?" I ask suspiciously. "What do you mean?" "Here's how it's going to play out. I printed out three pictures from your little adventure yesterday." I feel my pulse quicken and a sense of dread overtakes me. "I've given these pictures to three different people working in the mall." "Oh god..." I murmur under my breath. "Now I know you probably don't want the pictures floating around in just anyone's hands. So, you're going to get them back. I'll point you at each of the people with the pictures and you have to convince them to return them." I have very little doubt that the 'convincing' will be sexual in nature. I briefly consider just letting them keep the pictures. Plenty of women have nudes in the world and most likely nothing really bad would come of this. But I know, in the end I will play her game. Something about J compels me to do as she asks. Maybe she's right. Maybe deep down I do want this. But right now, I just feel resigned to my fate. "Okay," I say. "I'll do it." J's smile widens and I detect a hint of wickedness. "There are just two rules: First, you have to get one picture before I tell you who has the next one. That should keep you honest. If I don't think you're complying with the spirit of the game, you won't get the next picture." She has clearly thought this through. "And second, you can't offer money or things with physical value. You have to convince them to give you the pictures using just your wits and your... charms." And there it is. Her meaning is clear. "The pictures are increasingly explicit. The later pictures will undoubtedly command a higher price." J has a look of pure mischief about her. The cat who ate the canary. She stands and beckons me to follow. "Come along, Little Butterfly. Let's go play."