Agent Provocateur

I was tangled. I was tangled and dizzy and Boss-wench was towering over me, demanding I explain myself. For a second, I was frozen. I felt myself blushing; the redness was spreading across my chest, up my neck and into my cheeks..

What should I say - ''I'm sorry but I was on the phone gossiping about that scandalous new shop and I was spinning around on the chair and I haven't done anything from my jobs list and I stole some chocolate desert and drank some wine and now I'm tangled''?.

''Um...''

"This just will not do. It will not do". She sneered, "When mother finds out she will have rid of you, I don't know why she hasn't before now. Stupid girl."

I remembered how Madam had once found me in the cold room straddling the beautiful new Italian chef. He was quickly sent on his way and I was made to stand for ten minutes in nothing but my delicates while Madam lectured me on health and safety at work and my general wickedness.

From that day on I had been known less as 'Girl' and more "the silly little tart". A new chef was quickly found; older and more round with a considerably less-handsome face. He often gave me a shifty wink and pat on the bum if he caught an opportunity.

Madam was a powerful and well-respected lady. She had bought 'La Dolce Vita' for her wayward daughter, in a vain hope that she would show some of the entrepreneurial skills that Madam herself had shown at her age. I had been hired as the sole waitress, but found myself running errands for her, rather than serving the few customers that ventured in.

Later that day, Madam came into the restaurant. I watched her from the upstairs window, noting how she stepped delicately out of her sporty little car like a celebrity from my magazines. Perfectly groomed, her rich auburn hair held perfectly around her ears and fell naturally around her corset-nipped waist.

I stroked my own bobbed black hair and squeezed at my dismally boyish waist. If I stood on my tiptoes I could just make out that she was wearing her pinstripe pencil skirt and fantastically high heeled shoes, the pair that I had once secretly tried walking in but had been caught red-footed, mid-wobble. That day she had told me I had legs to die for and should wear heels more often. I'd rushed out and bought two cheap pairs from the market but Boss-wench had laughed when I first wore the scarlet pair, saying they were fit for the bin. Later, Madam found some luxurious black with red soled shoes that she said I could have, even though they were more than that months whole wage, I didn't ever dare wear them.

I gazed across to the shop which had caused a stir on Church Street. The mannequins in the window were handsome, dressed in luxurious lingerie that a girl like me could only dream about. I could see a black corset being held by the doll-like assistant. Oh! To have a small waist and straight back like madams...

"Girl. You continue to find ways to disappoint me..." I turned to find Madams grey eyes narrowed. I drifted away from the lecture, catching only "... a list of items for you to purchase for me from the new boutique. We shall deal with the other nonsense later". I felt the red rising again and tears pricked at my eyes - I always cry. At everything. Her lips twitched and her eyes creased as though I amused her in some way, then she turned on her heels and walked away. She was wearing red-seamed stockings and I blushed again.

That night I liberated a bottle of Red from the fridge and drank it on the walk down the high street. I felt deliciously light headed, clutching the little parcel tight to my chest and smiling at the cute tattooed boy who worked at the local butchers.

I was still wearing my tiny waitressing dress, but now my back was beautifully straight, my waist tightly nipped in and restricted by laces and ties which were cleverly concealed. The cold air felt lush against my seam-stockinged legs and the garter straps chaffed delicately around my skin. I laughed and found my blush rising again.

As I stepped down into the backstreet and through the purple door, I felt a surge of power. Peering into the lavishly dressed crowd, I could just see the red-seams and auburn hair on either side of a bondage-strapped madam. I pulled out my whip and whispered into her ear, she turned her grey eyes and smiled "Ah, my silly little tart, I thought you'd never come".