Zack and Millie

Chapter 2

by scifiscribbler

Tags: #cw:noncon #brainwashing #clothing #dom:male #exhibitionism #m/f #sub:female #maid

“Clear and blank,” she said.

Zack was talking, and it wasn’t at all clear to Millie what he was saying, but that didn’t matter. It was enough that he was talking. His hand rested on her shoulder, then moved up, stroking her cheek. She leaned into his touch, happy to be cared for, happy to be pampered.

He continued to talk, and her head swam. There were no thoughts in any case, but the fuzzy, strange sensation grew. Her head might be empty, but it was like – like her reality was changing.

-

For Millie, it started properly on the Friday morning. She woke up early, hand slapping the snooze button on her alarm, and rolled into a sitting position, suddenly wide awake, clear-headed, and energized.

She was halfway to her bedroom door before she realised she was naked. That was probably acceptable, but – maybe – she could do better.

She detoured via her drawers, picking out a soft black bra with white lacey edging and her black cycle shorts, taught against her body and defined. Glancing at herself in the mirror, there was a suggestion of something, along with a very satisfyingly titillating look.

So, less than five minutes after her alarm first went off, ahead of its second chirp, she left her room.

She tiptoed across to his room, keeping as quiet as she could.

He’d left his door open, but not much light spilled in. She took in what she could, to better do her duty.

She slipped inside the darkened room, realising that she was very familiar with the layout, even though she didn’t remember spending much time there.

Three paces took her to the bottom corner of the bed. She sank to her knees, eyes flickering closed for a moment as she did. A sigh of happiness escaped her lips and she hoped he hadn’t heard.

Now it was time to work by feel. She slid one hand under the duvet, lifting the edge with the other, and leaned forward to duck her head under the covers.

Navigation was difficult. She wasn’t to wake him before she was in position. She moved by instinct as much as anything, reading the slope of the mattress to figure out where his legs lay, placing her hands around them, crawling up his body without touching it, holding her body high to do it.

She paused when she figured she was about halfway up. Now came the trickiest part of her duty; finding him before she disturbed him.

She bent her arms out, bringing herself lower, exploring. Her bra brushed against his thighs, giving her a better idea of her location. Millie dipped her head forward so that her mouth was on the same level. There was a sudden shift beneath her as his thighs twitched and she realised she should have tied her hair back, rather than let it brush against him, setting his nerves tingling.

Well, that was something she could deal with next time on. In the meantime, she had to act fast. Opening her mouth, she nosed forward and found him, breathing in the musk of him as her upper lip brushed against a ball.

He gave a start; she could hear a sudden shift in his breathing. But she was almost there, so it was fine. She kissed his balls, then leaned forward on her palms, lips finding his cock.

Finally in position to do her duty, she opened wide and engulfed him, feeling him harden almost in shocked reaction, then fell to work, head bobbing contentedly. She took pleasure in doing a good job, after all, but also Zack was a great guy, and only had her best interests at heart.

Being his unpaid PA around her paid job was really just the obvious thing to do. And if he required very different forms of ‘assistance’ to her employer, well… she’d never tell him (it would be unprofessional) but she was realising, as she blew him for the first time, that she had feelings for him. Must do. How else could she explain how familiar, how appropriate, how right he felt in her mouth?

She shifted her position to get a better angle and, as she did, he swept the duvet clear from above her.

“I forgot your alarm is set so damn early,” he mumbled, somewhat sheepishly. Her cheeks flushed, and to cover it, she redoubled her efforts. “Morning,” he said, slightly more clearly, slightly more friendly as he did. Still sucking, she raised her left hand and waved.

This was a really nice idea, she decided. It was great to have a proper opportunity to make Zack happy like this. And if she was very lucky, he wouldn’t realise it was turning her on to act like this around him.

She was glad she’d suggested it.

-

She returned from her run to find Zack blearily finishing up coffee preparation. He looked up, smiled, and moved one of the two mugs toward her.

“I’m your PA,” she said. “I should probably be doing this.”

He shrugged. “You know how picky I am about my coffee.”

She smiled and took a sip. It was, she had to admit, good coffee.

“So when do you get back today?” he asked.

“Probably before you do,” she admitted, glancing at the clock. “Today should be a short one.”

Zack sipped his coffee. “I’ll see you later, then,” he said.

She sketched a mock curtsey. “Yes, sir,” she said, smiling the smile of a friend sharing a private joke. He laughed. Coming close to her on his way out of the room, he paused, stepped closer still. They were inches away, face to face.

Millie’s breath caught as she anticipated a kiss, the perfect validation of her secret desire. But instead, grinning, Zack put out a hand to rest on her ass. Her eyes widened in surprise, then her mouth opened with a gasp as he squeezed and pure, unfiltered bliss flooded through her head.

She gripped the countertop to keep from losing her balance. Zack gave her an almost proprietary wink and left the kitchen, grabbing his messenger bag with his free hand, headed for the door.

Millie took a moment to get her breath back and took another gulp of her coffee. She still had a shower to take, had to get changed, but she needed to centre herself first. That done, she headed off to the bathroom.

She was naked under the stream, lathering her hair with shampoo, before it occurred to her that her reaction to having her arse squeezed was a little out of proportion.

--

She didn’t go straight home after work.

When Zack had finally had the chance to see her chosen outfit that morning, he’d grinned, said something approving, and seemed even happier with her new role as his assistant.

So it was only natural that she’d stop off to buy something a bit more… forthright… before returning home, especially as she expected to be back before him.

In fact it seemed less like a logical thought process and more like an instinctive decision.

She’d never been to this shop before, although obviously she’d known about it almost as long as she’d lived in town. But it wasn’t the sort of place people went unless they were no better than they should be.

Which said something about her as she set foot over the threshold, but she told herself sternly she was just trying to be a better PA. It was perfectly justifiable in that context.

And so what if it was her own idea? A good assistant should be able to use their initiative.

She dithered over several different racks and displays. Honestly, now she’d bitten the bullet and decided to get something from here? Now she was considering them as products?

It was all tempting. She pictured herself in outfit after outfit and liked the thought of each one, especially when she put a hand out to feel the heavy leather of one corset, the strange mix of rigidity and a yielding texture.

She’d never felt like this before. Sensations and desires she’d never encountered welled up in her. Either she’d changed overnight somehow, or the floodgates had opened.

Well, the floodgates certainly made much more sense.

 She lost time in the shop, flitting between several options, none of which were the item she’d come in intending to buy. She was conscious throughout that the woman at the counter was watching her, and she was amused.

She supposed that meant that her behaviour wasn’t too unusual, which was a bit… uncomfortable. She wasn’t like most people who’d stop by a kinky store. She was only there for her job!

Well, the unpaid ‘job’ which had begun with a blowjob this morning and in which she’d been groped.

It seemed strange when she looked at it like that, but she remembered it had made perfect sense when they’d discussed it. So it definitely did, even if she couldn’t quite remember how or why right now.

She eventually drifted away from her personal preferences to pick up a maid’s outfit, black and white, that seemed more in line with what she thought Zack would want. Then she put it back on the rack and, tentatively, picked up a skimpier variant, the skirt replaced with a pair of high-cut black panties with a little white decoration to suit the outfit as a whole.

It seemed to speak to her, and it was even in her size.

She added three or four pairs of fishnet stockings to her haul and approached the counter.

The woman at the counter smiled. “First time?”

Millie flushed. “How did you know?”

The shopkeeper smiled and shrugged. “You get to be able to read people in this job,” she said. Millie found herself watching her lip ring dance as she talked. After a moment, the woman continued. “Actually, it was the way you were looking around. Spent all your time on other stuff, then hustle over to the costume rack, grab the second one you see, come straight over.

“That doesn’t just tell me this is your first time here, it tells me you’re shopping for your guess at someone else’s tastes, too.”

Millie swallowed, then nodded slowly. It wasn’t completely comfortable being so accurately analysed. On the other hand, it was at least nice to know that what she’d done wasn’t completely out of the ordinary. She wasn’t crazy or anything. She was just following an established pattern.

“Uh… yeah.”

“They better be worth it,” the woman said, the grin on her face telling truth to her stern tone.

“Oh, he’s a great guy,” Millie said. “And only has my best interests at heart.”

The shopkeeper tilted her head to one side, squinting thoughtfully at Millie, who abruptly reflected for the first time that it was sort of an odd phrase to say out loud. She probably shouldn’t do that. “Uh… huh.”

Millie felt the need to defend Zack from this stranger’s scepticism. “No, really, he’s nice,” she protested, turning crimson. “And, um…”

“Sweetheart, I know he’s hot. Or we wouldn’t be having this conversation, would we?”

She could feel the heat in her cheeks somehow manage to get worse. And yet, physically, Zack was only so-so. When they started renting together, she’d sized him up and dismissed him as anyone likely to earn a spot in her fantasies.

But now wasn’t a time to quibble. Meeting her eyes, Millie smiled, a shy smile that became less shy when it was answered, when it became a shared appreciation.

“He really is, though,” she confessed.

“Been together long?” the shopkeeper asked.

“That depends on how you count it,” Millie answered after a moment to ponder. After all, they weren’t really together – but the dynamic the shopkeeper sensed was less than a day old, even if they’d been living in the same house now for some months.

“Well, you’re spicing things up now,” she said, then paused. “You know… you seemed so much more interested in the leather. Sure you don’t want to go with your own taste.”

“Oh, I couldn’t-“

“At least try it on.” The shopkeeper grinned. “If you still say no, I’ll stop bugging you. But you were getting ideas, I could see.

Had she had ideas? It didn’t feel like it to Millie. But there had certainly been a fascination. Maybe that was all the woman meant?

Millie hesitated, but ultimately nodded. It was tempting, she admitted to herself. It might be a good chance to learn something about herself…

The two of them crossed back to the racks of leatherwear. Millie looked her choices back over and tentatively reached out to pick one up, only for the shopkeeper to interrupt. “That’s not going to be your size,” she said with the confidence of practice. She picked out another. “Here.”

Millie looked at the soft, deep red of the corset and licked her lips. Taking it in one hand, she ran the fingers of the other over it, enjoying the sensation of the soft leather on her hands.

“This is probably silly,” she said. “Probably,” her new temptress agreed. “But we’re allowed to be silly, from time to time. It doesn’t have to be a bad thing.”

She saw the justice of that. With a smile, she moved toward the changing room. “Just get it in place loosely,” her new friend suggested. “I can get it properly fitted once you’re out.”

Millie went along with it. The feel against her skin was soft and cool. It took a little time to get everything lined up and right, at the end of which she emerged, looking down sheepishly before glancing up at the mirror off to one side.

To her own eyes, she looked completely different. Just changing her usual loose, full top into something that revealed her shoulders and arms – and made a feature of her cleavage – had transformed her. It had to be her imagination, but even her face looked subtly sexier, with no change but what she was wearing below it.

The shopkeeper laughed. “Everyone stands up straighter the first time they try one,” she said.

Was she? Millie hadn’t realised, but studying her reflection, she realised it was true.

She smiled at the stranger in her mirror, and liked the smile she got back.

“I love it,” she said simply. “Absolutely.”

The shopkeeper grinned. “This is part of why I love this job,” she said. “I get to help people see their hidden side.”

“Their dark side?”

She shook her head, her eyes twinkling. “Not usually.”

Millie nodded uncertainly and went back to her reflection. She should, it occurred to her, probably try on the outfit for Zack, but right now that seemed much less important.

She raised her hand, gestured to the reflection of her neck. “Is it me,” she asked, “or is this a bit… empty… there?”

“Are you thinking of a collar?” the shopkeeper asked. There was a hint of surprise to her voice, but no trace of criticism.

“It feels like it’s designed for one,” Millie said, then faltered. “Doesn’t it?”

“I don’t know about designed,” she said, “but I think it’d look good with one. But wearing a collar tends to send a message, even if you own it and put it on yourself. You sure you want to do that?”

There was a pause. Millie could tell there was something buried in that question that was important, but she would have to admit she wasn’t sure what it was getting it.

“I don’t not want to,” she said after a moment. “But maybe…”

“Well, you don’t need to buy one now,” the shopkeeper said practically. “But if you’re curious, we can try a few options.”

Mouth suddenly dry, Millie nodded quickly.

The two crossed to a large black chest of drawers set against one wall. The handles were well worn, wood showing through where the black paint had been worn away. The shopkeeper drew open the top drawer, revealing a broad selection. Leather. Chain. Segmented metal. Rope. So many pptions, individually and in combination.

Millie licked her lips.

She reached out tentatively for a beautiful construction, a band of gleaming, polished steel set into a deep, dark red leather. Her hand almost touched it before she caught herself, fingers jerking back nervously.

“I’m sorry – I didn’t mean to…”

She stopped there. She wasn’t sure what would have made sense to finish the sentence. Her spine was tingling, her scalp seemed to be fizzing with excitement and nerves.

It was like being on a rollercoaster. She was rushing headlong into this, and she wasn’t sure how that had happened, but she was loving this momentum.

Not so much discovering herself as hurtling into a new version of it.

“Try it,” the shopkeeper said gently. “Why not? Just be aware – if you buy that one, you’ll spend a lot of time keeping it polished.” She grinned. “Everyone tells me their play partners can’t keep their hands off something that shiny.”

The shopkeeper took it from the drawer herself, holding it at each end, handling it with seemingly infinite care. She held it out to Millie, an offering, a gesture that flooded her with heat, flushing her cheeks, roaring down her spine like fire, melting her deep down so that she felt herself getting wet and was almost scared her knees were about to buckle.

She swallowed and steeled herself in turn, taking the collar gingerly by the leather. Raising it to her neck, she licked dry lips, then drew it back around her neck, settling it into place, holding it closed. She glanced back toward the shopkeeper, who smiled encouragingly and nodded.

Emboldened, Millie snapped the clasp locked and took her hands away. She already felt better; at the other woman’s approving, appraising nod, she felt better still.

She turned and crossed to the mirror.

Seeing herself collared and in leather, another wash of heat pulsed through her being. Her knees actually did buckle this time, but the shopkeeper was close behind her and caught her, steadying her until Millie could stand properly again.

“What do you think?” the shopkeeper asked.

“…Perfect,” Millie breathed, unwilling to say it loudly enough for her to acknowledge it.

“I’d have to agree,” she said with a chuckle.

“But I can’t afford these and Zack’s…”

She trailed off. Maybe she could. But she wanted to be able to pamper him occasionally. Wasn’t that what a good PA did? And to buy it all at once, she’d have to cut back on everything but the essentials.

An odd expression had crossed her new friend’s face, but it cleared quickly. “You don’t have to shop here just once,” the shopkeeper said with a smile. “I’d be very happy to see you more often. Not many people are as quick as you to admit to themselves what they want.”

It sounded like a compliment, so Millie preened.

The shopkeeper gently helped her out of the collar, then worked with her to unfasten the corset. Strange how quickly Millie had become fine with the idea of this friendly woman seeing her body. All the better to help her.

She supposed it was very like how Zack was better helped each morning by her being as open with her body as possible. And Millie loved to be helpful. To be of service –

Her knees almost gave once again, but she held it together. It wasn’t a phrase she habitually used, but somehow, this time, it was punching buttons she hadn’t known she had. She wasn’t sure – it was almost like her mind had whited out for a few moments – but she might have quietly mewled with pleasure at the thought.

Her mind swam back to the present moment. Back to her new friend standing with her, waiting for a decision.

“So,” she said. “Your choice or his?”

She told herself that the answer was “His,” because it was cheaper. No other reason.

It wasn’t the ideal she’d glimpsed. But it was a clear start along the way. Something delightful. Something tantalising.

With her purchases in a tasteful black bag bearing no logo (“We have a branded bag, but it’s usually for those who want to shout it loud and say it proud”), Millie impulsively hugged the shopkeeper before she left.

--

Behind her, once the bell above the door had stopped jingling, the shopkeeper sat down behind her counter, picked up her phone, and dialled a number. She waited with amused impatience for it to ring.

“Hello?”

“At it again, are you?” she asked cheerfully. She listened to about five seconds of sputtering before deciding to let him off the hook… a little. “I like this one,” she said. “Very friendly. Very cute, too. Your taste is improving.”

--

Millie had hurried into the shower after arriving home. Her shopping had taken longer than planned – she chided herself mentally for dallying on her own interests when really she should have considered the entire errand to be a PA errand, not somewhere where her own preferences would feature – and was, she thought, ready and presentable now, a few minutes before she expected Zack back into the house.

She pulled on her new outfit for the first time, examining herself in the mirror. It wasn’t that glorious corset, but it was, all the same, very flattering, very revealing.

A PA dressed as a maid. But it might be fun to pretend to herself that she was actually a maid.

She hurried downstairs, heels in hand, then dropped them with a clack to the floor so she could step into them. Then it was into the kitchen, where she took up a position at the counter, grabbing Zack’s coffee apparatus. She was going to do her best to get it just the way he liked it.

As the kettle was doing its thing, she clacked across to their shared ‘drinks shelf’ and took down a bottle of cheap whisky left over from their last party. An Irish coffee to draw a line under the working day and help him start to relax sounded like the perfect idea right now. She was looking forward to his reaction.

She heard his key in the door just as the kettle clicked off. With an effort, she kept her expression completely neutral. She had an image she wanted to present, and she didn’t want to spoil it by grinning. Zack should see his dutiful maid, busy in service to his needs and his pleasure, not his flatmate giggling giddily at the idea. He might take her giggles as an indication that something had gone wrong.

She was conscious of the kitchen door swinging open, and of Zack’s presence there. But there was no sound as she busied herself with the hot water. She kept her focus firmly away from him until there was nothing left to do but let the coffee brew.

Then she turned to face him and, looking up shyly, said “Welcome home, sir. Your coffee is almost ready.

“Will there be anything else?”

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