At Last My Pretty Petite Wife is Taken by 4 Men
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Boobytrap free porn video
Booby Trap
by Circe ([email protected])
Thanks to SteveZ for proofreading!
Lucy passed the measuring tape around the bare back of the young woman,
smiling with scarlet lips as she took a mental note of the measurement.
"When was the last time you were measured?" she asked, relaxing the tape
and pulling it up the woman's back.
"Oh, not for ages," the woman smiled apologetically. "It's not
something you do really, is it?"
"You really should." Lucy straightened the tape and slipped an elegant
finger along its length, brushing the woman's small, perky breasts as
she pulled the tape right across her bust. "Your boobs change size all
the time, depending on how you're feeling, if you're stressed out. In
Love. Pregnant."
The woman flushed.
"Congratulations!" Lucy smiled down at the woman, warmly with perfect
white teeth. "When's it due?"
"I've only just found out." The woman looked down, frowning slightly.
"My boyfriend doesn't even know yet."
Lucy relaxed the tape and wound it tight around her fingers. The woman
shivered.
"That's wonderful, I'm so happy for you both! And not just because I'll
be seeing you again in a few months," Lucy laughed. "Wait there a
moment?"
The woman folder her arms across her chest, and watched Lucy slip around
the curtain, out of the changing room. She turned and looked at herself
in the full length mirror, small breasts, narrow waist with a slight
tummy. Not slight for long, she thought to herself, sliding her hand
down and resting on her belly button. She smiled a secret smile. She
dropped her hands, slipping her thumb into the waistband of her
pantyhose and pulling her black knee-length skirt up higher on her
narrow hips.
The curtain twitched as Lucy returned, considerately parting it around
her curvy frame and turning to ensure it was closed tightly. "Now,
don't pay any attention to the styles, I just want to check the fit,
OK?" Lucy held up three bras, before dropping two on the plush red
cushioned bench in the changing room. She glanced at the woman's
slender shoulders and began absently pulling on the straps, her glossy
red nails visible.
The bra she held in her hands was simple, tan, with underwire loops and
moulded cups. Lucy made a face, as if to say, I know, and handed it to
the woman. "Would you put this on for me please?"
The woman took the bra, slipped her arms through the straps and reached
behind her to fasten the clasp. "Oh, that's OK, just turn around," the
shop assistant offered as the woman stopped, and turned, pulling the
small moulded cups of the bra downwards over her small perky breasts.
Luck pulled the clasps gently and clipped them into place before running
her manicured hands along the length of the strap, smoothing out any
wrinkles. She lay her hands on the woman's shoulders and turned her to
face the mirror.
"Do you mind?" Lucy asked, before waiting for an answer and slipping a
finger under each shoulder strap, sliding her fingers down the woman's
chest and straightening the strap, before pulling down on the center
piece of fabric. The woman looked at herself in the mirror, the bra
sitting perfectly on her chest, comfortable and straight. Her breasts,
pushed up slightly, looked higher, rounder and fuller. She smiled.
"Perfect, thank you." The woman turned this way and that, cupping her
breasts before leaning forward, reaching into the cups and pulling the
flesh upwards. She smiled. "I actually like it too."
"34B," Lucy smiled. "Slightly padded, but it gives you a bit more
shape. Do you want to put on your top?" The woman nodded, mmhmm as
Lucy handed her the stretchy cotton black v-necked top the woman had
been wearing. She gathered it in her hands and placed it over her head,
brushing away her blonde hair as she pulled it down towards her middle.
Her boobs looked perkier, proud of her chest, with newly acquired
cleavage visible at the neckline. The woman smiled and sighed.
"I've always worn a 36A," the woman said absently, running her hands
over her boobs and down her sides. "They look great!" she said, almost
forgetting Lucy standing next to her.
"They do!" Lucy agreed. "You can try on the others I brought," she
gestured to the other two bras on the bench - one lacy pink semi-
transparent, the other coral, with embroidered flowers across the straps
- "or keep that on for now and have a look at the rest of the shop?"
"Thank you, I might have a look around if that's OK?" The woman turned
to look at Lucy as she nodded and pulled back the curtain, leaving the
richly wallpapered changing room into the shop, her black glossy heels
clicking on the white-washed wooden floor.
"Can I get you a latte? Cappuccino? I'd offer you a glass of wine,
but," Lucy grinned as she sat by the register.
The woman bought three bras, two with matching panties, before she left,
still thrilled, an hour and a green tea later. Lucy had waved goodbye
as the iron doorbell tinkled as she left, turning the business card the
woman, Claire, had left her. Claire Jonhson, it read. Accounts
Manager. She opened a small drawer under the antique register and
tossed the card inside, crashing onto a pile of several others. Another
satisfied customer - hopefully she'll tell her friends.
Nina Simone gently warbled in the background as Lucy finished tagging
some new stock, stood and walked through her shop, straightening and
organizing bras, panties and garter belts as she went. It wasn't a big
shop, but she loved it. This had always been her dream. The shop felt
rich and warm, with large baroque pattered wallpaper, french rococo
furniture and the subtle smell of vanilla mingling with Lucy's own heady
perfume. The register sat on a curved french desk, alone except for a
measuring tape, a laptop and a fashion magazine. Behind the desk, a
large black and gold door was locked. Two changing rooms lay at the
back, next to the oversized coffee machine. Their heavy curtains drawn
back with thick gold rope, showing the the large mirrors inside.
Lucy caught sight of herself in one of the large mirrors and stopped,
brushing a strand of black hair behind her ear and pulling at her black
dress, straightening the fabric taught over her wide hips smoothing the
front with her hands. She turned around, glancing over her shoulder at
her stockings, the black seems perfectly straight up her smooth, toned
legs. She turned and tugged at the oversized red belt cinching her
narrow waist, straightening it and pushing it down to rest on her hips.
She walked towards the mirror, catching sight of a long blonde hair
curled into a spiral on her breast. With delicate fingers, she reached
down and gentle removed the hair before smoothing the top of her dress,
moving her hands over her large, full breasts.
The doorbell tinkled, breaking Lucy's reverie. She turned, and smiled
at a slender bald man in a brown pinstriped suit. He looked nervous,
met her gaze for a moment before obviously shifting his gaze down to her
large breasts and cleavage. Lucy walked towards him, "Can I help you
with anything?" She smiled a large, reassuring smile.
The man walked up to the register, fishing in his suit jacket for his
wallet. "I'm here to, um, collect..." He trailed off, too embarrassed
to finish. His face flushed, looking uncomfortable.
"Ah, yes." Lucy moved behind the desk, turning on the laptop and
quickly clicking keys. The man looked down at her perfect fingernails,
occasionally glancing at her bust. "Do you have your receipt, Mr.
Fisher?"
"You remembered?" he asked, both slightly alarmed and slightly re-
assured.
"Of course," Lucy replied, warmly meeting his gaze, her vivid green eyes
pulling his attention towards her perfectly made-up face. "I make sure
I remember all my customers, especially the special orders."
Mr. Fisher visibly relaxed, pulling out his wallet and handing over a
hand-written note, completed in an elegant womanly script. Lucy took it
from him, her fingers brushing against his for a split second. "Thank
you, would you mind waiting a moment?" she asked, pushing a button on
the register, which clanks open with a loud ding. She gestured at the
chaise in the middle of the shop, a iron coffee table to the side laden
with neatly stacked lingerie trade magazines. Lucy removed a large
black key from the till as the man sat, turned and opened the black door
with a heavy clunk before disappearing inside, pulling the door shut
behind her.
Mr. Fisher reached for a magazine, before looking around him at the
lacy, flimsy feminine items around the store. He swallowed heavily,
Nina Simone gently filling the silence. He looked down at the magazine,
a wavy-haired brunette on the cover, lying on a bed face-down, her
matching white bra and panties perfect on her airbrushed figure. There
was a sound, and the door opened revealing Lucy, carrying a large candy-
stripped hat box.
"Here you are, Mr. Fisher." She lay the box on the desk, turned and
locked the door as the man rose, discarding the magazine on the chaise.
He walked to the desk, opened the lid and peered inside.
"That's fantastic, thank you so much." He looked up, pulling the lid
over the top of the box and smiling.
"Can I wrap it for you?" Lucy asked, pushing a button on the register
and placing the key in the extended tray. The man shook his head, both
hands on the box, reluctant to let go. "Ok, excellent," Lucy closed the
tray. "It should fit perfectly."
"Thank you so much," said Mr. Fisher again, before lifting the box and
walking towards the door.
"I'll see you soon I hope," called Lucy after the man, who turned and
grinned. "Absolutely."
Lucy had owned the shop for a little over a year, and had dreamed about
owning the shop for as long as she could remember. She wanted to make
sure it was the most conformable, relaxing environment possible and she
prided herself on how happy her customers were. She had made many
friends through the shop, helping them to feel better about themselves,
to feel sexier, happier and more comfortable as women. She loved
lingerie, loved the fashions, the styles, the colors and feel. There's
nothing like wearing amazing underwear, she said to her customers.
Knowing that your body is being supported, caressed and cradled by rich
silk or warm cotton makes you feel wonderful, comfortable and sexy.
It's a secret smile, she would say, that no matter what you're wearing
on top, your body is looking its absolute best.
Her special appointment arrived early, at ten to six. Her name, she
said while shaking Lucy's hand, was Suzie, and she was getting married
in six months. Lucy locked the door behind her and pulled down the
blind. A bottle of wine and two glasses sat on the iron table, the
magazines cleared away. Suzie sat down as Lucy poured two glasses of
wine (one glass larger than the other) and sat next to her. "To your
special day!" She offered Suzie a glass and they chinked their glasses
together and drank. Lucy set down her glass, bright red lipstick
kissing the rim.
Suzie was getting a dress hand made, and had pictures of the designs,
and photographs of the linen sample. She also had a page of
instructions from the dress maker, and a lot of ideas on what she
wanted, and what she didn't want. She wanted to be a princess. She
didn't want to be a sardine. Lucy had laughed. They talked about bad
wedding dresses, hair and makeup, string quartets and wedding cakes. It
was twenty minutes before Suzie mentioned the groom: David.
The dress was tight, and white, with a plunging neckline and long
hemline. Lucy described a vision in a half-bust corset, thong panties
and matching garter belt, supporting white antique stockings. Suzie
nodded happily, imagining the whole day in her head and thinking of how
beautiful she would be. How sexy and special.
"Now, I'd like to measure you," Lucy said, turning to look at Suzie and
top up her wine glass. Her stockinged knee brushing against Lucy's bare
thigh. "I know a wonderful corset maker who will hand craft something
wonderful for you. I'm thinking antique silk, a lovely light pattern on
the fabric, with hand lacing - I can come and help with that, or train
one of your bridesmaids. You'll look like a princess." Suzie smiled at
that. She wanted to be a princess.
Lucy stood and brought over her laptop, sitting down and bunching up
next to Suzie. Suzie leaned into Lucy, the legs, hips and shoulders
pressed together as Lucy flicked through a gallery of gorgeous corsets.
Suzie gasped with each picture of happy, smiling brides to be, all
standing in Lucy's shop in a variety of beautiful lingerie. "Oh, that's
perfect," Suzie purred. "I love it. Measure me now!"
Lucy stood, and took Suzie's wine glass before gesturing to the changing
room at the back of the shop. In the middle of the room was a padded
chair, covered with transparent plastic, next to which was a bucket.
Lucy made a sympathetic face at Suzie.
"The corset will fit you like a second skin, she does great work. But
the best way to make sure it fits is to take a cast of you. I know,"
she smiled, "I know it's different."
"No, no, I think it's exciting!" Suzie walked into the room, her hands
already reaching behind her back to pull down the zip on her summer
pattered dress. "It's like being in a movie."
Lucy pulled on pink rubber gloves and checked the bucket while Suzie
unzipped her dress, falling into a pool by her feet and revealing
mismatched underwear. She stepped out of her sandals, and turned to
face Lucy, hands on her hips. Her large round breasts were stuffed into
a too-tight bra and Lucy inwardly winced. She'd have to help her
afterwards, she thought to herself. "Would you mind?" Lucy gestured to
the girl's bra. The girl quickly reached behind her back, pushing out
her boobs before unclipping and releasing them from her underwear. They
sat surprisingly high on Suzie's chest, and Lucy, looking up, could make
out two very tiny scars underneath the breast.
"How long ago did you have surgery?" Lucy asked as Suzie sat. Her mouth
opened. "Sorry, professional hazard. I see a lot of boobs," Lucy
giggled.
"Six months ago," Suzie smiled, cupping her left breast and absently
squeezing it. "They were an engagement gift. I love them."
"34DD? They look fabulous! Really natural," she lied.
"Oh, thank you," the girl gushed sitting back and feeling great about
her body. She turned and looked, not for the first time, at Lucy's
impressive bust. "When did you get yours done?" she asked, reaching for
her wine glass.
Lucy squeezed a tube of goo into her now-bare hands, warming the liquid
before putting both hands on Suzie's chest below her neck, and slowly
massaging the liquid into her tight skin. She quickly worked down her
chest, over her breasts and pink nipples, feeling them hard under her
fingers as she worked. She smiled comfortingly as Suzie took a drink.
"These are real, I'm afraid," Lucy replied. "Just blessed in that area.
And a great bra of course!" Suzie blushed as Lucy moved her hands down
onto her slightly rounded tummy.
"I'm so sorry..." she started, looking embarrassed. Lucy stopped.
"Don't be silly," she smiled widely, her lips red and eyes twinkling.
"Thank you for being sweet."
"What is that stuff?" Suzie asked, her skin tingling.
Lucy pulled on the gloves again, pulling out a thick pink goo, and
spreading it on the girl's chest. "That was just a moisturizer. Just
to protect the skin and make it easier to get the cast off. It should
feel nice."
Suzie let out a contented sigh, closing her eyes and taking another sip
of wine as Lucy massaged the plaster over the girl's breasts. She was
careful to appear professional, and talked quietly throughout, asking
more about the wedding, her bridesmaid's dresses and problems with her
mother. She filled her glass again as they waited for the mold to
harden, and talked about the best way to kiss in a church, and so by the
time the cast had set, they felt like old friends. The cast came off
easily, her skin shiny and slick underneath, flecked with little pieces
of pink plaster.
She cleaned off, pulled on her ill-fitting bra and zipped up her summer
dress and finished her wine. They chatted, arranged two dates - one for
a proper bra fitting (Lucy insisted) and one to check the corset fit
(which would be perfect, Lucy had assured her) and so it was eight by
the time Lucy unlocked the door and gave Suzie a hug goodbye. Suzie
surprised her by squeezing tightly, their boobs crushing together as she
wrapped her arms around the lingerie shop owner. Lucy stiffened and
then relaxed. "You're welcome," she whispered into the girls ear.
The doorbell tinkled as the girl waved goodbye, drunk, happy and feeling
like a princess. Lucy turned, and surveyed her shop. Her wine glass
sat on the table where she had left it; lipstick kiss from only one sip.
The rest of the bottle was empty beside it. She laughed to herself and
walked over to the changing room, gathering up the plastic sheeting and
pushing it into the now-empty bucket. The cast lay next to it, an
inverted woman's torso, with slightly rounded tummy, large breasts and
impressions left by stiff nipples.
Lucy carried the cast behind the desk, opened the black door and took it
inside.
The room behind the door was nothing like the shop. It was dirty, and
grungy, and messy and brown. Large plastic bottles were arranged on a
metal shelf and a wallpapering table filled the length of one wall. A
stack of hat boxes sat on the floor. The other wall was floor to
ceiling shelves, filled with busts. Each shelf had a label (34, 36, 38,
40) and each bust a letter (A, B, C, D, DD). Some busts were brilliant
white, and some appeared to be flesh colored. On closer inspection they
were silicon, expertly shaped and painted to appear as real as possible.
There were several gaps.
Lucy laid the cast onto the wallpapering table. She didn't have an
order for this size right now, but she would soon. Then she'd make a
man happy. There's nothing like wearing amazing underwear, she'd tell
them.
Lucy arrived home after ten. She lived not too far from the shop, and
so could walk home most nights, her heels clicking on the cobbled
streets. She had tidied the shop, ready for tomorrow, filled in the
order for the corset, and set the mould for Suzie's boobs. Then she'd
washed the glasses, vacuumed the changing room turned off the lights. A
good day.
She sad on the edge of her bed, massaging her stockinged foot after
removing her black shoes. She wiggled her toes delightedly, reaching
behind her for a glass of wine which she swallowed in one large gulp. A
good day, she agreed.
She stood, and reached behind her for the zip of her tight black dress.
She located it easily, and pulled it down her back, feeling the pressure
release all the way down with a happy sigh. She wriggled and pulled the
dress down over her wide hips and large bottom, carefully past the
garters and down her stockinged legs. She stood, and frowned at the
empty wine glass before turning and walking through her flat and into
the kitchen to grab the bottle. Her feet tingled on the thick carpeted
floor as she swayed, her hips swinging and large boobs bouncing.
She topped up her glass as she walked, licking the neck of the bottle
before putting it down on the brightly lit vanity. Her room looked like
the shop, feminine and elegant with thick carpet, large patterned wall
paper and a large mirror. It was in this mirror she caught sight of her
reflection and stopped as she appraised her body and sipped the wine.
She felt pretty, and sexy, and loved her job. Her bra was pretty; the
perfect size, the straps didn't cut into her shoulders, the strap was
straight across her back, the cups full. It was black, with purple
trim, and sheer. She looked down her torso, which wasn't nearly as
pretty. A thick vintage girdle was wrapped around her tummy and hips,
open at the bottom and ending at her thighs. It was black, and slightly
transparent, revealing another garment underneath.
She set the wine glass down and undid the clasps on her stockings,
sliding them down her smooth long legs, careful not to catch them on her
nails. She pulled them out, and hung them on the end of her metal bed.
She grabbed the bottom of her girdle and tugged, slowly working the
constrictive garment down over her womanly bottom and thighs. As it
reached her knees it fell to the floor, revealing a thick panty, the
waist band just reaching her belly button, the legs ending mid thigh.
The panty was heavily padded with silicon, bending and flexing as she
straightened up and, with a sigh, pulled it down, freeing her semi-erect
cock from its shapely prison. Her perfectly manicured hands stroke the
head and it quickly hardened. Looking down between her large breasts in
their beautiful bra, at her delicate fingers she thought of Suzie, and
of Claire and finally of Mr. Fisher, and came heavily, her whole body
shuddering as she screamed as a woman again and again.
She waited until her breathing had slowed, and her cock had began to
grow limp, until she opened her eyes and looked into her hand, her cum
white and still warm. She felt a tingle all over as she licked her
hand, her cum tasting salty mixed with the cherry of her lipstick. In
the mirror, the woman smiled, her ruby lips glossy, by breasts heaving,
her boyish hips bucking as her index finger flicked her small cock. She
had almost came earlier, she thought. When Suzie had hugged her, she
was sure she would feel her, hard within her panty. And then the
thought that she had felt her made her harder, pushing against the
layers of lycra and silicon. Still, Lucy thought, she was so drunk
she'd forget it instantly. Or, she thought with a wicked grin, she felt
it and wanted it.
She reached behind her, unclipping the bra and freeing her wonderful
artificial breasts from their lacy cups. Her nipples were slightly hard
- they were always slightly hard - and her breasts sat high on her
chest, but there were no scars. She'd made sure of that. She sat and
played with them for a moment, tweaking her nipples and squeezing her
boobs with one hand, languidly stroking her cock with the other. A good
day.
The breasts came free with a little solvent, the silicon packs falling
out of the silicon skin onto the thick carpet. He rubbed moisturized
into his bare chest, and pulled at his womanly neck, peeling the skin up
and over his chin, nose and forehead. He pulled off his eyelashes, and
removed his makeup, colored contact lenses, dental caps and smeared his
lipstick.
He had dreamt of this as long as he could remember - the shop, the
breasts. This. He wanted people to feel as he did, sexier, happier and
more comfortable. He loved lingerie, loved the fashions, the styles,
the colors and the feel. There's nothing like wearing amazing
underwear, he said to all his customers.
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