This story is based on a man and a woman that I encountered while living in East London and the clothes they wore.
Turned Out
By Tang
Jessica Grant walked across the small square towards the main road. Being school-time it was pretty quiet with only a few elderly people on the move and the noises of the underground trains in the cutting a short way off coming through clearly. While she had never dreamed of living in East London, she had had to recognise that, with house prices being so high and her only early on in her legal career, it was all that she could afford, at least if she wanted to avoid a long daily commute back and forth from Essex.
For the moment Jessica was working as a duty solicitor for the local police station, handily located across the road from the courts. Her firm felt it was best for her to gain experience this way before she moved on to representing paying clients. She had to admit it had allowed her to get to know people of this district and beyond. East London had welcomed newcomers down the centuries and so its population was incredibly diverse. On a typical day she would meet people with heritages from Eastern Europe, Latin America, South Asia and Africa as well as various parts of Britain. Every shop in her area appeared to be run by people from a different ethnic group from the Sikh off licence to the Jamaican bagel shop.
At first, Jessica had worried that whenever she emerged from her small flat, she would run into people she had represented and might face resentment if she had failed to keep them from being fined or imprisoned. However, she had only seen a handful of those she had worked with and most appeared to have either quickly forgotten her or had felt she was doing the best she could for their interests in difficult circumstances. She guessed it would have been tougher if she had chosen actually to be a police officer instead.
Her smart, professional skirt suit; her pulled back hair and the enhancing but subtle make-up she wore, Jessica felt, helped her fade into the background and she guessed for a solicitor that was not a bad skill to have. Sometimes locals would look at her a little suspiciously as she made her way to the police station or to her office; she did look richer than many of them and her fashion sense was out-of-step with the urban styles everyone favoured around here. However, she was usually less interesting to bother with, than something on their phones or a piece of gossip one of their neighbours had heard.
Soon Jessica was at the police station and was sent through to the interview room. When she entered there was just a constable stood in the corner and her client, Darius Berkley sat in a chair. Expecting that she would have to be here when the police officers came back to question him, she took the chair next to Darius. He was black man of her age, with a neat beard, dressed in baggy silky black gym bottoms, a teeshirt in a dusty blue mottled pattern and sleek black trainers. A glistening puffa coat in midnight blue hung over the back of his chair; searched already, Jessica was sure. Jessica could not stop herself looking at the young man’s trousers and jacket. She had identified before studying for her career that there was something about shiny clothes which distracted her; almost entranced her. As a result, she kept to matt shades and most of her shoes were suede. She did worry a little about the day when she would have to represent a prostitute in a tight leather skirt and long vinyl boots.
Jessica always worked hard to keep herself professional around everyone she met. There was something about this Darius, as there had been earlier in the year with DS Harris, that made that harder than usual. Jessica was no fan of urban style, but her client managed to pull it off in a sophisticated way; not with his trousers hanging half off his backside or a cap turned backwards as if he was a ten-year old. Even in the police station there was a nice scent about him and the watch he wore looked expensive; the rubber and steel necklace at his throat was tasteful.
“Good morning, Mr. Berkley.”
“Good morning, Lady Jessica,” Darius responded with a subtle smile and Jessica took it as a compliment rather than him making a joke of her.
“They have very little on me. There were some wraps of weed in my jacket pocket …” He patted the shiny coat behind him and Jessica tried not to look at it, “inside a plastic bag; zip-lock, but my prints aren’t on that; aren’t on any of the wraps.”
“So you are denying that this cannabis is yours?”
“Of course. I’d been in the Hurricane Room, Club Lick, Bar 300 – places like that. It must have been when someone saw the cops, they shoved it in my pocket.”
Jessica could see it was a feasible explanation. She did wonder if it was true, but knew that unless Darius confessed to doing something illegal, then she had to go with what he said.
“Well, Mr. Berkley …”
“Call me Darius.”
“Not before this is dealt with.”
“But then you will.” He smiled.
It would not be the first time that a client had hit on her, but perhaps this was the first one who was anywhere near her in age and was not drunk or stoned when he tried it on. There was something Jessica found she liked about Darius’s confidence, he was unafraid without being cocky and, she felt too, that he would not have done this just to every female lawyer he might have been assigned. Jessica had never been with a black man and, abruptly, she wondered if she was missing out and that, certainly living in East London, she should take the opportunity to sample a wide palette of men.
Jessica tried to focus. She would be no use to Darius or anyone else, if, besides being enthralled by his shiny clothes, she kept wondering whether the man she was working for would make a suitable date. In her mind Jessica envisaged a dull, buff-coloured folder and it helped her calm down.
“Mr Berkley, I cannot promise anything. However, the charge seems to be based on a lot of assumptions rather than evidence. They are assuming that, given the amount of cannabis … weed, you were carrying, that you have to be a supplier. They will try to get you on the quantity of the drug; the way it was packaged and the cash you had.”
“The cash is mine, but these days with double shots coming up to a tenner, a couple of rounds with friends you’re going to get through one hundred, two hundred pounds really quickly.”
Jessica accepted that he had a point. Though she was not a pub- or night club-goer, even a meal at an Indian restaurant could have eaten deep into this cash, before the wine had been ordered. The last meal she had attended with the firm had been more than one hundred pounds per head, something she could not have considered ordering unless the company had been paying.
“Did you buy rounds? Were there friends with you who could speak on your behalf?”
“I saw some now and then, in different places, but I was with a lady …”
“Ah, now would she come forward?”
Darius shook his head. “If she did, it would probably only be to narc me, even if it was fake. We argued.”
“About what?”
“She said she didn’t like my clothes; said I should spend more on her, as if I didn’t kit her out nicely anyway – you know sassy, but quality.”
For a moment Jessica thought he was about to suck his teeth in despair, but was pleased when he avoided the stereotype. There was something about Darius that, at present, she could not quite fathom. He intrigued her, but she pushed that thought aside: there was too much for her to do to begin analysing her client.
“Do you like my clothes, Jessica?” He smiled at her.
For a moment Jessica considered whether he was playing with her, then if he was insecure and needed regular acceptance, even esteem, from a woman to feel good about himself and his choices. However, she dismissed that thought – she already knew he was confident; he needed no-one’s validation.
“Yes, yes, I do.” Jessica confessed quietly.
She had no idea why she had said that and she blushed across her whole body. She coughed.
“Sorry, we need to focus.” Jessica tried to get her grip back on things. “If we can get the police to accept that they have no evidence that the drugs were not planted on you, then once we remove the possession, you cannot have been supplying.”
“I get you. Yes, it makes sense.”
“And they’re not going to have anyone turn up saying you supplied them? Even a friend or this woman?”
“No.” Darius said confidently. “You don’t need to worry about that.”
Again, Jessica did not know whether Darius had the right to be so confident, but she guessed that, in her position, she had to go with the line he asked for.
“We’ll get the police back and see if we can get this to go away, Darius.”
He smiled at that. “I know you can do it, Jeslyn.”
For a moment Jessica was going to correct him, but found that she quite liked the name he had given her and simply smiled back, if a little tentatively.
****
Jessica stepped out from the police station and moments later Darius emerged, now back in the fully glory of his puffa coat.
“You did the trick.” He smiled broadly. “Thank you.”
The police had abandoned their charges and Jessica felt proud that she had outlined such a thorough defence at this stage, even if it was only potential, that they realised it would probably be thrown out by the magistrate.
“Just my job.”
“But I didn’t even pay for you,” Darius pointed out. “Come on, I owe you something, can I buy you a drink? … At least a coffee, if you’re not wanting anything else, Jeslyn.”
Jessica wondered if this was the default setting for Darius and he saw every woman within certain parameters as someone he could potentially date, or, in fact, Jessica imagined, someone he could potentially fuck. That thought startled her and she considered if it was her own fantasies that were shaping how she viewed this interaction.
“Yes, why not?” Jessica responded.
She felt that if she normalised it, then it would be easier than imagining what might have happened. Darius had ceased to be her client and, with his case resolved so quickly, she had time before she would be expected at the office.
“I am thinking of hiring you as my solicitor,” Darius offered.
“Are you expecting to be arrested on a frequent basis?”
He laughed at that. “No, but you can tell your boss, you have been working hard to build up a new connection, okay?”
Jessica smiled at his perception. She was sure that once they were clear of the police station she would soon find Darius less intriguing. From recent experiences of men in London, she imagine he would begin rattling on about his car – the BMW that the police had been so fussed about or his apartment in one of the converted warehouses, that Jessica knew she was envious of, or perhaps drunken exploits at the nightclubs he frequented. Jessica doubted Darius was completely innocent, even of the crime he had just been cleared of, but she found, as they headed to the new coffee shop that had opened nearby, that she did not mind it. In fact, increasingly, she felt she liked that about him. Perhaps, she reflected, the men she knew were just too straight up and that made them boring.
****
Jessica realised that Darius had been in no way boring. He had travelled pretty widely in the Caribbean and South America. However, it was the fact that he was a good listener to all that she had to say about her life, her career and the future, that meant she found she had no desire to cut the chat short. They had already got through two large cups of coffee. Darius looked like he was in no hurry to rush off and Jessica found she had no desire to bring the conversation to an end. Every time she considered if it was right or wrong; if there was something else she should be doing, she found a frisson; a delight in being mischievous. Given how long Darius had invested in talking to her, Jessica was increasingly certain that he would ask her out. As she repeatedly envisaged that scenario, she could see herself doing nothing else than saying ‘yes’. In fact, in a desire to relieve the tension building in her, Jessica considered asking him first, but then felt, it would not be right, that to make this work, she had to let go of the kind of control she had as a lawyer and let him drive this on.
“Tell me a secret – a secret about yourself.” Darius said softly.
Jessica hesitated, wondering what the best reply would be, to have Darius think well of her; to add to the good vibe she was feeling. Though she felt guilty doing so, Jessica was coming to doubt if she could pull away from this.
“I like black leather; black leather clothes.”
Darius looked as attentive as before. “Nice, yes, you must look good in them; something sleek like that would really suit you. Would I see you in a club decked out like that?”
Jessica could feel her skin almost burning with embarrassment but the tingle in her body loved that she had made the confession, one she largely kept from herself. She shook her head.
“It’s too distracting … gets in the way of life; of work. I don’t know … well, what kind of woman I would be …”
“In tight leather leggings, a leather bustier, nice shiny, soft leather jacket.” Darius said slowly. “The aroma, the texture, don’t you want to know what it’s like? It’s not difficult to get that kind of gear.”
Jessica shuddered: this was too much. “No,” she said feebly, “I can’t imagine what I’d be like; but I’m sure I would have crossed a line.”
“You’re not worried about blurred lines, you’re worried you’d wipe the line out entirely; make the ‘other side’ become the only side.”
Jessica imagined for a moment this was a question; then that somehow Darius understood her better than she did herself. Maybe he had met women like her before or some similar; she remembered the woman he had been at the club with and Jessica considered how she might have been dressed – the thought of that woman zipped into a tight black leather dress, strutting on high heels, was too easy to envisage.
Abruptly Jessica stood, having broken the dam, all the worries about what she was doing talking to this man and how she was neglecting her job came flooding into her mind. She told herself off for letting her thoughts become so messed up in this way and that, if she could be put in a spin by just some mildly flirtatious conversation, she was being immature and instead she should get out and have some proper sex.
“Thank you … Darius.” Jessica could not bring herself to return to using ‘Mr. Berkley’. “Thank you for the coffee … and the chat.”
“I think you needed it; I think you need … want to talk some more.”
“But I can’t,” Jessica realised she was pleading rather than dismissing his comment. “Anyway, you’ve not told me one of your secrets.” She was sure he had many.
“I own a weed farm in Essex.” Darius said simply.
“Okay.”
Jessica guessed he had a right to confess that if he wanted. She doubted she would ever be called to aid him again and, she excused herself, as long as he was not being charged with owning that farm, she could accept his line of defence at face value. Jessica felt there was so much she wanted to say, but now she was up and with his confession as an encouragement for action, she collected her bag and left the café. Even outside it took some time to calm herself down and Jessica wondered what she might do to keep Darius out of her dreams, let alone her fantasies. She knew that he was a threat to this life she had constructed, but what worried her most was that she was almost willing to become the kind of woman he could so easily make her into.
****
There was a buzz from the door and from the window, Jessica could see a delivery man with a number of packages. She was not expecting anything and imagined he had got the wrong address. She went down to the small hallway; she prided herself on having a flat, which, at least in part, had two floors. The man smiled as she opened the door, clearly pleased that he would not have to take all the packages back to his van. Jessica took one the size of a shoe box and saw that it did have her name and address on; as did the other. The labelling showed that they had come from an online clothing retailer and she worried that she had somehow sleepwalked into making orders. Perhaps someone had hacked her account, but if they had, they were the loser as everything had ended up at her place. Jessica knew she would have to check what was going on, but guessed that while it might be a palaver it would be easy to send it all back; she was on good terms with the Sarganas who ran the tiny post office nearby.
Soon Jessica had signed the delivery man’s electronic pad and carried the boxes up to her living room. She opened the box she had first handled and inside found a pair of patent leather ankle boots with a pretty high but chunky heel; silver slip buckles down the side. As she opened the next and smelt the aroma of leather, Jessica quivered, uncertain whether to continue or to hold back. She found she could not resist and in quick succession had pulled out a pair of high-waisted leather trousers; a smart cropped leather jacket and a plain black leather teeshirt, not something she had really been conscious of existing. There was even a leather choker. The leather was soft and smooth to touch. Perhaps if it had been brittle cheap stuff she could have been more dismissive of it all. Yet, it would seem a crime to throw all of this away; to dump it into a charity shop. The question was then whether she had the strength to pack it all up and send it back.
Jessica’s pulse throbbed as she looked at the clothes, loving the shine of them and trying to hold back from the thought that so easily she could put these on and walk out of her flat. What kind of woman would that make her? She had some idea of how she would be perceived. However, she knew that the thrill of these things was already a lot to cope with. Beyond that she knew they had to have come from Darius. She was not surprised at that, but did recognise it suggested he was making the next move in this game. Clearly, a coffee with her was not enough.
Maybe, Jessica tried to reassure herself, this was simply a generous ‘thank you’ for what she had done to help him and by today he had moved on to some other woman who took his fancy. However, she felt sure he wanted to see Jessica – his Jeslyn – in this outfit. Jessica pondered what might follow on from than that and was concerned that any further steps would be decided by Darius with herself too weak, too enthralled perhaps, to resist them. Even now Jessica was uncertain whether she would want to resist and considered what the outcome would be if did she simply yielded to Darius’s designs for her.
Unsettled with all that the packages had released in her, Jessica quickly put on a plain coat and shoes, left the flat and began tramping across East London until she was weary. Then she fell into a café and had a cheap, if filling, lunch. She then took to the tube and went to see some movie at random, anything to distract her from the potential of taking the path to being Darius’s leather-clad lover.
****
During the week, Jessica had managed to throw herself into her work more than usual. Even then, she kept spooking herself, thinking that the woman who passed her in the leather jacket or the shiny leggings, was the alternate version of herself who had put on what Darius had sent her; had allowed her life to be taken down a different track. Jessica kept on asserting that she had no need to make herself; allow herself, to be dependent on a man, but could not chant away the thought that it was something seductive. She knew many men were arrogant bastards, who expected women to dress and behave just as they chose, she met too many of them in her job. Now, however, Jessica realised she could see a different perspective, what was it to yield such control; to allow, even to ask the man to make you into what he wanted sexually? Was it the ultimate abasement or was it allowing yourself to be crafted into a precious jewel, not one taken for granted, but one that was admired; desired?
With the weekend, Jessica padded around the flat in her fluffy dressing gown, trying to pretend to herself that she could hold back indefinitely from going down to the coats cupboard where the leatherwear had been stashed. Of course, having breakfasted, she found herself slipping on the laciest black underwear she possessed, the items she kept for the rare occasions when she thought she might stand a chance with a man, or even when she just felt like saying that she could be that kind of woman anyway. It simply added to the sense that she had no choice but to slide into the leathers and almost automatically she found herself stood in her hallway pulling on the tight leather trousers and then the teeshirt. For a moment she thought they were too tight, but as they warmed, they yielded. Even then, Jessica was a little alarmed to see her nipples hard in the leather, realising just how her body had been waiting for this. Then she was into the cropped jacket and soon, with short black stockings on, the boots followed. Jessica found herself strutting around her flat, looking in the mirror at herself. Then lifting her hair and closing the leather choker around her neck. Why that made all the difference, she did not know, but she was buzzing with a thrill, loving the sound, the smell of these clothes, let alone how they embraced her body.
Jessica realised there were no pockets in the jacket or trousers and shuddered at that recognition. These were for a woman who would have a handbag, but the sense that everything else was carried for her by her man. ‘Her man’. Jessica tried the phrase in her head. Did that man necessarily have to be Darius? If he was her man, did that mean she would be ‘his woman’? That sense of ownership appeared to grow with each passing minute. Jessica knew that dressed this way, she was signalling that she was offering herself to Darius.
Though qualms flickered in the back of her mind, Jessica soon found herself having put on the gloves that came with the outfit, lounging on the sofa, legs splayed, fingering her wet and hot pussy, teasing her so hard nipples through their leather coating. The orgasm hit her like a wave and Jessica’s head shook, her body throbbed. Was she locking her arousal on to Darius? If she could bring herself off so well just in the clothes he had sent; imagining his body, what would it be like for real?
Now Jessica found she was giving no thought to alternative paths, rather thinking what Darius would want her most to look like; how she could appear that way so that she was perfect for when, as she was certain would happen, he would reappear in her life to check what she had become, and, she hoped dearly, that he would take her into his world. To ensure that, Jessica knew she had to communicate fully that she could be his woman; would look the way he wanted. Almost automatically she was searching for the kind of beauty salon that could ensure she looked perfect and then was phoning for an appointment, unable to stop herself going all the way.
****
Jessica kept looking at herself reflected in the glass partition to the back of the taxi, wondering if she would regret what she had done. Her hair had been dyed black with bronze highlights. It was a lot shorter than before, fixed in a swept-across style and with pointy bangs at the side of her face. Light caught the small gem that now sat on the side of her nose and even the glisten of the pale pink lipstick she had put on. Her eyes were shaded in colours that matched her hair; her eyelashes teased out to unfamiliar lengths. She guessed she looked more like many of the women she encountered in her job, but she felt that, above all, she appeared to be an adult, a woman in control of herself, her sexiness and loving the feedback it gave her. That sense was quickly augmented by the thought which piqued her arousal even further than striding around in the tight leathers, that she had been led into this by a man; a ‘bad boy’. Jessica found herself quivering when she recalled Darius’s features and even more when she thought how she could put up no defence to whatever he wanted if he met her now; altered to his tastes and those tastes seared into Jessica herself.
As Jessica stepped from the taxi and paid the driver from the new lace and zipped handbag she carried; she saw a new BMW parked a short way along. She found herself sauntering towards it, more familiar now with the high heels she walked on and the way that the leather held her body so firmly. She had given up any resistance to Darius, that was apparent and she found she was delighted that he was here to collect her; to gather her in; to make what she had been unable to avoid envisaging, turn into reality. Jessica knew that there was no way that she could pass many more hours without having sex with this man.
As Jessica slipped into the passenger seat, Darius lent across and slid a hand between her leathered thighs and she trusted that he felt her heat down there. They locked for a kiss as if they had long been lovers rather than this being the first time. Jessica loved the feel of his tongue in her mouth and pursued it. Her pleasure grew as she recognised that everything she was doing was not simply letting him into her, but taking herself deeper into his world, so far, she was now realising, that she would be unable to escape.
The car powered away. Once Jessica might have concerned herself being in a speeding car, but now she realised that having accepted what Darius had offered, she could not pick and choose amongst his many traits. She realised as they rushed though the city that anyway, she imagined no-one she knew would recognise her. Somehow, she had become a very different woman, not simply in appearance, but also, she understood, in how she viewed the world. As they pulled into a parking space in front of an expensive looking block of flats, Jessica realised that this was no date; there would be no preliminaries. Her man knew what she needed and it meshed with what he simply wanted.
Darius climbed out of the car, came round to Jessica’s side and opened the door. She swung out her leather-clad legs and found she was stepping proudly from the car. Dimly she wondered whether these sensations had come from. However, they were so strong in her and made her feel so good, that any question about them was quickly swept away. As she walked beside Darius to the entrance, she was conscious of people looking at her and she found herself glancing around, feeling more satisfaction that she was being seen looking so good and with Darius beside her. Soon they were at the front door of a flat, looking plush but discreet. Darius lent in and kissed Jessica’s lips. She yielded to it then found she enjoyed it. She could not remember when last a man had treated her as something precious and guessed that was why she was finding it so good to feel.
Darius kept his mouth close to Jessica’s ear. “One night, stay with me one night, my Jeslyn and I can promise you that I will turn you out so good that you’ll never want to leave,” he whispered softly.
Jessica had heard of men – and women – able to do that. She guessed that if Darius was as good at sex as he was promising, then she would be a fool to miss out. Soon they were inside. The furniture and furnishings of the flat were as sophisticated as the exterior had promised. However, for now, they walked past the bedroom with a large iron-framed bed covered perhaps unsurprising with black leather sheets. Jessica knew that such existed but until now had never envisaged slipping beneath them, let alone being fucked among them. The living room had a large black leather sofa and matching armchairs, otherwise the furnishings were shiny black and chrome. A black fake-fur rug dominated the floor and as she sat down on the sofa, Jessica’s boot heels sunk into it telling her that this would be a good alternate venue for sex. The rich aroma of leather, the reflections from so many surfaces simply reinforced the vibe that this place was amplifying into Jessica.
Jessica wondered distantly how everything had become about sex. Perhaps, in large part, it was how she had dressed herself or effectively been dressed. Of course, Darius had wanted her for sex, but perhaps there was more than that and he was gaining pleasure already just from her having become a sexual creature. He had brought her to the top of that slide but she, Jessica realised now, had willingly got on it. She guessed she should not be surprised to find now that she had slid far down it and there seemed to be no way back, even if she had sought one. Jessica recognised then, that it was not simply the anticipation of being fucked by Darius which was making her so hot, but the acceptance that she had allowed herself, indeed had actively chosen, to become the kind of woman Darius would want to fuck.
As Darius came over with a glass of chilled champagne, Jessica realised that she had been oblivious to what he had been doing. Instead, her mind had been focused purely on sex and herself as a sexual being. There was a bloom of worry that she would not be able to get back from that and concentrate on anything else. However, the mindset she had slipped so easily into quickly suppressed any such concerns, telling her instead that she needed nothing else and anyway surely it was so much better just to have sex utterly dominating her thoughts. It was good to be sexy not just on the outside, something she had no doubt now was the truth, but inside too.
Jessica sipped the champagne as Darius came and sat beside her. She was unresisting as he reached out and ran his hands around her choker, then down her front to cup her nearest breast through the leather; its nipple was prominent despite the weight on it. His fingers continued to go back between her thighs as if intent on reminding her just how sexy she was. As his fingers rubbed up and down over her pussy lips, Jessica felt herself melting, knowing that she was hot and wet, loving how she lacked the ability to resist Darius; loving how much of a whore she felt herself to have become.
Jessica downed her champagne and put the empty glass on the floor. She slipped off her jacket, knowing that not only would she wear it again, but that from now on these were now precisely her kind of clothes. The sense that she had been a lawyer, had had a career, seemed very alien to Jessica now. She had the sense that, if she managed to satisfy Darius, by morning she would find that someone had resigned her position for her and even if they had not, she would find it hard to work after having slept with – fucked – a dealer. However, that recognition brought back the delicious sense that she had gone right down the slide and nothing could take her back from being this one hot bitch, hungry to feed her libido. It was Jessica who lent into Darius this time and pushed her lips against his and her tongue into his mouth. One of his hands grasped the opposite breast while the other cupped her bum in its tight leather.
Darius broke after some time but Jessica felt even more aroused than before. He rose and she knew he wanted to take this to the bedroom. She unzipped her boots and by the time she had caught up to him, had slid her leather teeshirt off. The silk bra below quickly followed and her breasts stood excited. Then she was easing off the tight leather trousers and by the time she was at the bed, its sheets thrown back by Darius, the thong and short stockings had gone. Jessica padded on in just her choker. Darius was already naked and his large cock stood proud as he lay back on the leather undersheet. Jessica knew some men had such large cocks but had never envisaged one going into her. Now, however, she knew she really needed it to go as deep as possible. On the fringes of her mind, Jessica realised that she was already beginning to be turned out. Steadily the sense that she would do anything to have this cock in her; would be anything its owner wanted, was asserting itself in her mind.
Jessica clambered aboard the bed and knelt either side of Darius’s muscular legs. She was here to give herself to him, to serve him in the way he wanted. Jessica knew it was up to her to deliver herself entirely to this man. She raised up and shuffled towards his cock, rubbing its big, dark, hard head up and down her soaked pussy lips. Then slowly she lowered her slick pussy over it, sliding down it, easing herself, gently but fully, in being addicted to this cock; to this man. In the next few minutes, Jessica rose and fell, rose and fell, the sensation building higher and higher in her until she was grunting, with her head thrown back, her eyes closed as all her senses became focused just on what the cock was doing to her. Then Darius jerked and sprayed his spunk deep into Jessica. Of course, he had entered her unshielded and Jessica knew there was a good chance that she would be turned into one of his baby mothers. She found that, rather than resist that, she welcomed her chance to prove to him precisely what she could be in his service.
Jessica’s turning out; the consummation of her becoming ‘his woman’ sent her spiralling off into orgasm until she toppled away from Darius and lay shuddering with the electricity of what she had done. Eventually sleep came but it was to a different woman to the one Jessica had woken as that morning. She was now owned.
****
On a chair at the foot of the bed were more black leather clothes – a bustier and matching miniskirt both with zips up the front and a pair of patent ankle boots with a spiked heel. Something told Jessica she should ignore these, in fact get out of the flat and right away from Darius. However, as she glanced over at his sleeping form, she felt that ache once more to be on him, to have him inside her. As she tried to deny it, Jessica realised she could not. Slowly she accepted that she had become completely addicted to his body and how it used hers.
The dressing table had numerous cosmetics and new jewellery. Jessica was not certain if they were meant of her or if Darius brought other women here. However, she realised quickly that if that was the case, she did not care. As long as she got access to his body, she was not jealous of anyone else enjoying him too. Sitting down at the dressing table, Jessica checked her make-up and made sure it looked as good as when she had left the salon. She knew from now on, rather than putting on the most minimal of lipstick and mascara, she would be spending time on getting her make-up perfect each morning and evening.
Looking among the jewellery, some still in packets, Jessica imagined that soon her ears would be adored with numerous rings and chains; there would be a monroe in face and a stud through her navel. She was that kind of woman and she would have that kind of ornamentation, somehow she knew there was no long anything to do to stop it. She replaced the earrings she wore with large hoops then stood up to get into the leather clothes. As she zipped her excited breasts into the bustier and then put on the leather skirt smaller than any she would have worn before, Jessica – Jeslyn as she had been metamorphosed into - realised she had been turned out. As she put on the boots, she acknowledged there was nothing now she could do to get away from wanting Darius’s dick in her and as a result, nothing she could do to stop her being the perfect woman for him – utterly sexy and submissive; his beautiful possession.
Jeslyn looked at herself in the full-length mirrors of the wardrobe and felt pleased that she was just as Darius, the master of all things in her life, would want. She turned back, hungry to be rewarded by being fucked just like this. She lent on the footboard of the bed, her cleavage on show to him. It was no surprise that the thought of her breasts being augmented to be large, tight smooth-skinned orbs came into her head and found a place there.
“Darius,” Jeslyn called softly.
He came awake, but seeing that his wonderful cock was already partially aroused, Jeslyn, wondered if he had been faking and in fact had been watching her prepare. Did he understand that in those moments, the final step had been taken; Jessica had become Jeslyn for real and locked to him by inescapable bonds? He said nothing, but simply stood, letting the sheet fall away from him and his long, broad cock rise back up. He came round behind Jeslyn and grasped her hips. His cock slid beneath the short leather and stroked across her pussy lips. One hand rested on her back, keeping her pinned down to the footboard of the bed so that even if she had wanted to rise from this submissive position, Jeslyn could not have done. She wiggled her tightly held bum provocatively and thrust her pussy down on the head of Darius’s cock as best she could. The sensation of begging with her body to have him back inside of her, sent a moan coming out from Jeslyn lips. Once she would have been embarrassed, but that was before she had become this sexual thing, unashamed of what she was and what she wanted; needed.
In response, Darius thrust his cock right into Jeslyn up to the hilt and she let out a shrill grunt and panted. Every push in, brought a shriek from Jeslyn as if she had been taken further and had morphed into a wordless creature, shrill in her response to the sex she was enjoying. Jeslyn looked down to her excited breasts held in the tight leather then back over her shoulder to the crest of her bum in its skirt, knowing that whenever she wore these clothes again she could not help feel echoes of what was happening to her in them now. She looked at Darius’s strong body connected to her by his wonderful cock. His eyes were closed but his mouth was open with sharp breaths coming out as he clearly was sparking with the pleasure of all of this. Then he came and Jeslyn was held in place as his cock juddered inside her. The fingers of his free hand came up to tease at her erect throbbing clit but the first contact was enough to turn Jeslyn into a shuddering howling rider of her man’s cock. Finally, Darius withdrew and Jeslyn stood straight. Her man closed to kiss her and she chased his tongue around as he held her bum tight and toyed with her nipples. Then he stepped back.
“You can stay here. This place is yours,” Darius said simply.
Jeslyn realised that he was giving her this flat and everything in it. She understood that today had been about testing her and she had passed. Now she moved on to the next stage of becoming a ‘kept woman’ and this flat was where she would be kept. That sense of being owned swept across Jeslyn with a frisson. In that moment, she felt as if she had stepped into somewhere that she could never come back from. Rather than reduce her excitement it heightened it as she acknowledged her life was now all about sex. It meant she had been made that sexy creature and there was nothing she could ever do to reverse that. She giggled as she welcomed that fact deep inside her.
Darius pulled open the mirrored wardrobe to show a range of clothes and boots, most in leather, but some in vinyl and latex. Jeslyn tried to push the thought of pulling on a shiny latex dress or thigh-length leather boots away from being the latest of her urges, but knew that soon that desire would come and quickly it would be part of her reality.
‘I am getting a drink,’ Darius said and headed towards the living room.
For some moments, Jeslyn tried to think of something other than being taken once more by Darius but nothing would come. He had adeptly made her utterly addicted to his cock and she knew she would do anything to get more of it. The wardrobe held many really, really sexy clothes of the kind she had never worn, but now she ached to be in. Hurriedly she took down a red strapless latex dress and found out a pair of red vinyl platform soled thigh boots. She was quickly out of her leathers, tossing the bustier and skirt aside. The interior of the dress was covered in talc and she realised there were things she had to learn about getting into such clothes. She carefully scrunched it up and then pulled it over her head and down to the top of her breasts. Her body felt a thrill as she pulled the cool latex down her body, knowing that this had just become her favourite material. In a couple of minutes, she had tugged it into place rendering her breasts and bum, slick hemispheres of red. The latex was taut across her body and between her thighs.
Sitting down, Jeslyn worked to encase her legs in the incredibly long boots. As she zipped one leg and then the other into the glossy red, she thought she might come just doing that. With them in place, Jeslyn stood and walked up and down becoming accustomed to the kind of boots that she knew now would be common for her to wear. For Jeslyn, underwear was now the perfect outerwear and fetish clothing would be her day clothes. She was a kept, turned out woman and everything about her would demonstrate that forever more. Jeslyn sat at her dressing table and drawing on all the advice on sexy make-up she had pretended to ignore, worked on her features. In the following minutes she had wing-lined her eyes and applied smoky eyelids, put on a shimmery naked lipstick and gold contoured her face to give it that look almost as if she was a walking mannequin. The reflected woman bore no relation to Jessica Grant, this was the highly sexual Jeslyn and there could be no doubt about it.
Now she rose and strutted in her boots loving how at once they made her feel empowered but whorish, noting how they altered her walk and the movement of her bum beneath its highly polished skin-tight latex. She yearned to be walking in public like this, oblivious to those around her as she was focused purely on pleasing Darius. She stepped into the living room, her legs splayed apart. Almost casually she slipped a finger beneath the edge of her dress and pulled it up to expose her pussy. She slipped the finger in and the pulling it from her juicy sex brought it to her mouth where she sucked on it like a cylindrical lolly.
Darius killed the television in that moment and his cock rose hard. Seeing it extend to its full length, Jeslyn felt hollow, a sensation that only her man’s meat could fill her. However, for now, she resisted those urges, knowing she had to do something else, to show her gratitude for all that he had done for her. In a few steps, Jeslyn was at Darius’s feet and lowered herself to the rug. She grasped his cock as best she could in her hand, then her tongue flicked out to lap at its head. In that moment, Jeslyn saw her in the future, her lips enhanced to make this work even better; a stud riding in her tongue. For now, though, as she eased her pursed lips over Darius’s cock, felt his guiding hand cup the back of her head and him emit a long sigh of satisfaction, Jeslyn knew she was doing very well with all that she had; everything that belonged entirely now to her man.
THE END.
