Ascent into Chastity - Part 4 - An Un-Nice Man

I hadn't slept well that Thursday, as the day before I had received a message from Paris on my phone, that everything was now ready for a fitting and possible collection. Was it excitement? Or just plain fear?

That day, I followed the routine I'd used for several weeks now, on these visits to Paris. An early morning commuter train into Kings Cross for just after seven, a taxi to the office for half an hour's work and then a second taxi to Waterloo for the 8:23 Eurostar to France. I always cut it tight, arriving at the station at the last possible minute. But I've not missed a train yet!

On that day I beat my record and I was sitting comfortably in my seat five minutes before the train left. The seat opposite in our shared table was still empty and I hoped it would stay that way!

It didn't!

*****

But I would never have expected the man, with whom I was to share the next three hours.

Kieren Pressar is a crook. Not in the eyes of the law, but in mine he is!

I know him, as many in the financial world, do from his myriad appearances in on one hand that exposer of the scoundrel, Private Eye, and on the other in that impeccable paper of record, The Financial Times. Others know him because they have lost money in a dot com company he promoted and from which he greatly benefited. Members of political parties of most persuasions know him because he has promised large donations and delivered small ones, if anything at all.

And that was just for starters!

The firm I work for has a thorough and very efficient research department. It's certainly in the top five in London, probably so in Europe and some might say in the world. So, I knew a lot more about the past of my delightful companion!

Many of my clients are often tempted to invest in private schemes promoted by various governments, companies and individuals. In fact I often advise them to do just such a thing, as some of these schemes can be very tax efficient for those on large, lumpy or unusual incomes. But you have to know which are good and safe!

Schemes promoted by Pressar often featured on one of our other lists reserved for the bad, the mad and the risky!

*****

If his business dealings were somewhat dubious, then his personal relationships were usually carried out for his own benefit.

His first wife had been very wealthy and had committed suicide in bizarre circumstances, whilst he was away on business. His second wife did much better and decided to leave him after a year, whilst she still had some self respect and ninety percent of her money.

Since then, he'd amused himself with various actresses, models and others of the beautiful people. None seemed to stay with him for long.

I hoped that he'd finally been rumbled! Or at least by my own sex!

*****

I am not a great one for new technology!

Ask me to create anything other than the most basic of documents, send anything other than a simple e-mail or change the cartridge on a laser printer, and I'll make a complete hash of it. But then I've always got a competent personal assistant at work and my ex husband at home.

But at least I have mastered, albeit rather badly, the joys of text messaging from and to my mobile phone. I decided I was going to use those three hours for a bit of fun, rather than preparing a paper for one of next weeks clients.

As soon as we'd cleared the station, I messaged home. 'Kieren Pressar birthday scandal etc. Opposite on train.' We never bother with all of the beloved abbreviations that other messagers use, as we both believe, that as we can spell, then we should. Although, there is an equally valid counter-argument in that Winston Churchill actually used a simple phonetic shorthand. He would have loved this piece of modern technology!

As we cleared the tangle of lines leaving Waterloo and started to pick up speed, I decided to introduce myself. Or at least someone to whom he might like to relate.

*****

'Hi!' I chose my mother's first name. 'I'm Ann!'

He smiled back. 'Kieren Pressar!' The accent was more American than I thought it would be, after living in London for about fifteen years. The offered hand had better nails than mine!

I thought about saying, that I knew. But I didn't! 'Do you travel this way often?' It was a very boring, but extremely old and common way to start a conversation.

'No! This is my first time!' He did a lot of smiling, through a set of immaculate teeth.

'I do it a lot!' I thought how often. 'Three or four times a month, to visit clients in Paris.'

'What do you do? It's a long way to go for clients.' That irritating and insincere smile struck again.

'Specialist customer services!' I do really. You'd be surprised what I've organised for clients, in addition to giving them financial advice. But tax is so boring! And often so much simple common sense! 'Most of it connected with personal problems. Lifestyle! Finance! Tax! Divorce settlements! That sort of thing.'

'That sounds interesting!' I'd meant it to be and he'd taken the bait and become interested. 'Sort of a lawyer then?'

'Not really!' I now played dumb. 'What do you do?'

He hesitated. Was he looking for what sounded best? Something to impress a lady he knew to be past her best! 'Property and hotels. I'm looking at a four star in Paris, today! Coming back tomorrow! I look at anything where I can take a cut!'

*****

I enjoyed the breakfast that followed.

So the food could have been better! But then unless you're on something like the oppulent Eastern and Oriental Express between Bangkok and Singapore, all rail food seems to suffer in the translation from the beautifully prepared and displayed menu to the plate where the quality really matters!

It was in his charm and some of his outrageous stories and chat up lines, that I found the enjoyment. I could imagine all too well, those broken women he'd left behind. I felt for them, as I'd experienced the desperation and loneliness, too many times myself. Once, even with the man with whom I was now living and exploring all of those hidden, forbidden and delicious recesses of a relationship!

The time had come to have some fun! But this time I would take the lead!

*****

We had just emerged into the light on the other side of the tunnel and I felt it was time I paid a visit to the toilet. Not necessarily for any of the usual reasons, feminine or otherwise, but more to chase the information I hadn't received back from home.

I decided that a simple performance would also be in order. With perhaps a degree of flirtation thrown in.

'Are you going anywhere?' It was a silly question that I deliberately asked, as I rose from my seat.

He smiled with those teeth again! 'I wasn't thinking of jumping, if that's what you mean!'

I wickedly thought that some would have liked him to jump. 'Can you mind my jacket, please?'

As I said that, I stood in front of him, undoing each of the three buttons on the red suit I was wearing, as slowly and teasingly as was decently possible. He was not prepared for what I was wearing underneath!

*****

I hate to be encumbered with too many clothes.

Under the immaculate shortish, cotton suit created by the dressmaker, all I was wearing was a very plain overbust corset that exactly matched in colour, style and fabric. It was cut quite discretely straight across at the front, but beautifully shaped to mould and show my figure. It also flowed seamlessly into the very fitted, slightly flared skirt, that was fastened with a black Hermes belt. The skirt reached to my usual length of a couple of inches above my knees, with a short split at the front of the right leg.

He was perhaps mildly surprised to see a lady with completely bare shoulders, even it was early June and quite warm. He certainly smiled that awful smile again, hopefully in admiration. But I could only imagine his face, as I turned and walked away from him. The back of the corset, was cut slightly lower than the front and no doubt he was able to observe the laces that held me so tight in great detail.

*****

I am not one of those women, who spends a good fifteen minutes in the toilet when I have to pay a visit! People who do that annoy me as much as anyone!

But this time it was different. I needed the answers to my questions and this might take time. It didn't as after a minute on my mobile phone I had all the answers I needed. I smiled at the thought of how I'd managed so long without him! Perhaps, as one got older you needed people more!

In addition, I wanted to make sure that my new crooked friend was absolutely ready!

So with a brief touch-up of the small amount of make-up I was wearing, a couple of dabs of perfume and a brush down of my skirt, I smiled at myself in the mirror, opened the door and walked as deliberately as I could back to my seat!

*****

He said the words I expected a very predictable man like him would. 'Are you wearing a corset?'

'Yes! The laces are not for show you know. They keep me nice and trim!' I paused and smiled. 'Stockings, too!'

The next question was predictable too. As was the smile. 'Is it comfortable?'

'Do you think I'd dress like this if it wasn't?' Perhaps not totally the truth, as my small waist gives me a lot of benefits!

'You look wonderful!' That smile again. 'I've seen a couple in clubs and stage shows, but never in an everyday situation. Your waist is so tiny. Absolutely stunning!'

'Thank you!' I always like compliments, even from those I don't like. 'There aren't many who dress as I do left!'

'There should be! I'm only judging by the way all the eyes followed you up and down the train! It was fascinating to watch!' He continued after a short pause. 'Have you been corsetted long?'

'Since I was a child!' I lied deliberately. 'My mother was laced like I am now and introduced me to my first corset at 14!'

'I bet you protested! I would have done! Isn't it almost abuse?'

Abuse was rich coming from him! 'Yes! I protested as any headstrong teenage girl would have done. I hated it! And all the other things that went with it!' But I decided to agree with him.' I suppose it possibly was abuse.'

'What other things?' Pressar was certainly very interested.

'Stockings, high heels, shoulder braces, night corsets, long training corsets from the bust to the knees...' He was showing a large degree of amazement on his face. 'But despite all that torture, I've worn a tight corset continuously since I left school at 16.' If you're going to lie seriously, make it a big one! Or several big ones!

The story I then told was true, but it was not about me, but a dear lady I'd met some years ago, when I first started to wear a corset seriously. I told of my mother's life as the daughter of a magician, how she'd assisted in his act and been one of the first women to be sawn in half! Whilst wearing a corset of course! I told of a life of constantly reducing and constraining my waist to its current size, by always being dressed in a corset for nearly twenty four hours a day. I also told of all the benefits it had brought me in my personal life and my business career. All was true, but little applied to me!

Except perhaps, if I looked at my last nine years. Had I done so much better in my career because I now dressed much more to impress a predominately male client base or because I now had the secure home life, I'd lacked for so many years?

*****

'I think I'm going to break a rule with you!' Pressar spoke as the train started to slow for Paris. 'Something I do rarely!'

'And what is that?'

'It's actually two rules in reality.' He looked directly at me. 'I don't normally take women who are ten years older than me out to dinner. I have a strong taste for young beautiful ladies. And I don't normally mix business with pleasure.'

'So is that an invitation to dinner tonight?' I waited before I continued, to heighten his disappointment. 'I'm sorry but I'm already spoken for this evening! I'm at my favourite Paris restaurant with an aging rock star.'

'Oh! Can't you change it?' He looked almost angry that he hadn't got his way. 'Or why not have breakfast with me? I need your views on this hotel project.' He pushed his business card across the table towards me. 'Perhaps you can make sure I get the finance right?'

I picked it up and read all the same details, I'd received from home. 'Some other time perhaps.' I put the card in my bag. 'I'll give you a call!'

'Surely you could make breakfast?' His eyes were pleading hard. 'I'm at the Ritz!'

He would be wouldn't he!

*****

He was still pleading as we walked from the train to the taxis, but I had decided that he would not be an ideal dinner date or even a client for my company.

'Shall we share? Is your hotel near the Ritz?'

'No! I'm going to La Defense!' I immediately realised that the Ritz could easily be on the way. Luckily he didn't!

'You take the first taxi, then.' He opened the door for me and told the driver my destination. Despite his persistence, he did have a few manners!

'Thank you! I will phone!' I gave him a good strong kiss full on the lips and before he could react I'd climbed into the taxi.

'Thank you! I'll remember today. See you again!'

'Perhaps. And by the way I'm seventeen years older than you!'

[ Story continues in part 5 ]
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Page last updated 02-Feb-10 by: Altairboy@aol.com