Chapter 2: Pant-E-Hose

My mother Bethany Griffith was CEO and sole owner of a small but profitable advertising agency called Womankind. My father’s business interests were immense, varied and complicated but Bethany held onto her little boutique business as a matter of pride and a source of self-determination.

That said, she was ruthless. Womankind employed only female staff and specialised in feminine-only products. Bethany was CEO and Head of Marketing, Public Relations, Advertising and Creative. Her Personal Assistant, Bonny Driver, oversaw Support and Account Services and mother also had a team of three Account Executives to manage the individual accounts.

She rented the entire fourth floor of an office suite in Soho and the three ‘Executives’ each had a small private office whilst her own office sprawled across most of the remaining floorspace. Bonny Driver sat at a huge desk outside of the double oak doors leading into Bethany’s office; guarding it like a Rottweiler.

The interior was open plan and roughly divided into Bethany’s work area with a large desk, layout table and stand-up workstation, a conference area with a table and six chairs. The largest area was set aside for entertaining clients with a comfortable white leather lounge and matching chairs, and a large coffee table. There was a small wet bar, a kitchenette and an ensuite bathroom with a small walk-in-robe. The rugs on the carpeted floors were expensive, as was the artwork that decorated the walls. Two large flat-screen TVs were mounted on the walls, one in each of the conference and entertaining areas.

The conference area had a videoconference setup that was quite evident to clients and prospective customers, but unbeknownst to anyone but Bethany and Bonny the office had a series of cameras and microphones installed that enabled Bethany to secretly record video and audio throughout her office. She would often invite prospective clients to use her office to discuss business or consider her proposals ‘in private’ whilst secretly recording them. She also liked to review video of her clients’ reactions to her ad campaigns and business proposals.

All this was unbeknownst to anyone but Bethany and Bonny. Except for me of course.

One of the many undergraduate classes I had attended after I finished my A-Levels was applied computer science and I was quite a geek. It had taken me hardly any time at all to infiltrate Womankind’s computer nexus and access the supposedly secret, restricted access, audio-visual network.

I sat at my computer alternating between the cameras in my mother’s office ensuring that I had complete control of them using an app I had developed and installed on my iphone. I zoomed a camera in on a closeup of my mother’s buxom buttocks and nylon-sheathed thighs as she stood at her workstation. I began to thicken and was tempted to whip out a pair of mother’s discarded pantyhose from my desk drawer and wrap them around my cock but I had more important things to do.

Besides ... if my plan worked I would soon be having a lot more fun with mother than just whacking off into her discarded lingerie.

The lift stopped at the fourth floor and opened onto the foyer of Womankind where Bonny Driver sat at her desk, the door to my mother’s office behind her was closed. The three Advertising Executive offices were off to my right and I could hear muffled but expansive phone conversations as mother’s staff worked hard, just as she demanded.

Bonny gave me a look of distain usually reserved by my mother for me, but Bonny was well aware of my mother’s antipathy and derision of me and she followed suit.

Bonny was stunning, a match for my mother in both looks and elegance. They could almost be twins. At forty-two Bonny kept her figure through a regimen of diet and exercise; she was not skinny, rather she had a classic hourglass figure. Her legs were long and shapely and her full breasts remained pert; her body had not been affected by childbirth.

Bonny’s hairstyle was a jet-black shoulder-length bob with a single blue cobalt highlight, her makeup was severe, with black eyeliner, blue and mauve eyeshadow, heavy black mascara, rouged cheeks and bright-red lipstick. Her appearance was almost Goth-like but tempered by a polished dress sense.

She wore a tight-fitting pinstriped power suit, the hem of her skirt resting well above her knees. Her long, shapely legs were sheathed in sheer grey hosiery; her feet were shod in red, patent leather Christian Louboutin high heels.

Bonny was sexy and sophisticated.

Bonny was also a lesbian; a militant lipstick-lesbian who had an equally militant butch-lesbian girlfriend the size of a refrigerator and with a temper to match her flaming short red hair.

“Hello Bonny,” I gave her my best smile.

“What do you want Nathan? You don’t have an appointment and Bethany is far too busy to see you today,” her mouth turned down at me.

I kept walking towards the sacrosanct oak doors and Bonny leapt to her feet and put herself between my mother’s inner sanctum and me.

I had used the remote camera app and knew that mother was alone in her office and I was determined that I was going to see her. She didn’t know it but we had important urgent business.

“Is your bull-dyke girlfriend still giving it to you with a strap-on; or is it true that she’s actually grown a penis?” I taunted Bonny, looking for a rise.

“Even without a strap-on I bet she’s got a bigger prong than you,” Bonny teased in return.

“Ok enough with the playful banter Bonny. Let me in to see Bethany; she doesn’t know I’m coming but I’m sure she will see me,” I replied.

Much to Bonny’s surprise that was the case; my mother told Bonny to let me in.

I walked into mother’s cavernous office and closed and locked the door behind me. Me locking the door was not lost on her.

She wore her usual work attire, a navy-blue power-suit with short skirt, her white satin blouse was fully displayed, her suit jacket hung off the back of her office chair. She was standing at her workstation and I had an uninterrupted view of her body. Her full breasts thrust out from her chest, straining the fabric of her blouse, her long legs were clad in ultra-sheer flesh-toned hosiery, her feet shod in black high-heels.

Mother’s hair and makeup were perfect as usual and I felt myself becoming erect in anticipation.

“What the fuck do you want?” she looked at me like dogshit on her shoe.

I walked casually up to workstation whilst manipulating my iphone.

“What I want for you is to transfer five thousand pounds to this account number,” I tossed my phone on her desk.

Bethany’s mouth turned down.

“I knew it would be about the money,” she sighed.

“Oh come on mother; you enjoyed our little soiree in the coffeehouse as much as I did,” I reached out and squeezed a buttock.

Mother snatched my hand away.

“What you made me do was disgusting!” she hissed.

“Just transfer the money and daddy won’t need to know about you and uncle Roger,” I chuckled.

Bethany bought up the webpage for her private bank account on the screen and transferred the funds. As soon as I saw her execute the transfer I snatched up my phone and used my banking app to transfer the money immediately into another account. I didn’t want my mother to know where I kept my money.

“So is that it now Nathan? Have you finished blackmailing your mother?” she said scornfully.

I ignored her; my attention was taken by a package on her desk. The slim rectangular package contained hosiery. There was a picture on the front of the packet of a woman smoothing out the product along her shapely legs.

“Pant-E-Hose,” I read the writing on the packaging.

A prototype for a large advertising poster was arranged on the layout table.

Mother reached out to take the advertising mockup off the layout table but I snatched it away before she could. On the cardboard handbill the same model as on the packaging was smoothing the hosiery around her thighs and buttocks. The gusset of the pantyhose was similar to a control top but it was bikini shaped and darker than the ultra-sheer legs of the hosiery, it was a shimmery coffee-coloured panty.

‘Finally, pantyhose that really are a panty and hosiery all in one,’ the speech balloon emanating from the smiling model’s mouth read.

The slogan at the bottom of the advertisement read:

‘Don’t wear tights - wear Pant-E-Hose! Do away with unsightly visible panty line, leave your knickers in the drawer. Pant-E-Hose combines the sheerest of hosiery with comfortable, sheer, form-flattering panties.’

“Nice product mom. You have the contract to advertise these I take it?” I waved the package of pantyhose at her.

“Yes Nathan. Not that it should matter to you, other than that the labelling will undoubtedly appeal to your fetish,” mother groused.

“I’ve always hated our British use of the term tights; makes me think of those horrible ribbed leggings that the girls wore at school in winter. I much prefer the word pantyhose and I really like these Pant-E-Hose,” I dropped the package on her desk.

“As much as your penchant for hosiery is fascinating to you; I really have some important work to get on with,” mother sighed and indicated the doors.

I took a step forward and closed in on my mother. I could see the fear in her eyes and smell her expensive perfume. She stepped backwards until her back was pressed against her workstation.

“Bethany; my priorities are now your priorities. I thought you would understand that by now,” I waved my phone under her nose; the blackmailing email addressed to father on the screen.

Mother gulped and nodded. Her haughty demeanour was replaced with a look of defeat.

I placed a hand on her leg and smoothed it along her warm sheer-stockinged thigh.

I leaned into her and whispered in her ear.

“Are you wearing them?”

She looked at me confused.

“The Pant-E-Hose. Are you wearing them?” I said for clarification.

Mother looked down at her feet and nodded her head imperceptivity.

I squeezed her thigh and said in a demanding tone.

“Are you wearing them?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Let me see,” I nuzzled her ear.

She tried to move her head away from me but I followed her and nipped at her earlobe.

“Behave yourself mother and let me see,” I demanded.

I stepped back to allow her some room.

She kept her head down and began to slowly lift her skirt.

My cock thickened as her shapely, gossamer-clad legs were exposed, and then the darker shimmery panty fabric at the very tops of her thighs and her lower belly.

Mother began to shake.

“This is so degrading Nathan. I thought you had finished with this now that I’ve paid you,” she sobbed.

I pulled her to me and kissed her and despite her struggles she knew better than to drop her skirt. Her body pressed against mine and I could feel her breasts squished against my chest. I slipped my tongue into her mouth briefly.

“You liked what we did in the coffeehouse,” I whispered into her ear.

“You made me like it; you forced me,” she sighed.

I was manoeuvring her towards the white leather lounge, holding her close and making her walk lockstep with me. I allowed her to drop her skirt but she was totally under my control. She stopped when the back of her legs pressed against the lounge.

“Please don’t Nathan. Please don’t degrade me further,” she begged.

I played with my phone, activating the secret cameras using my app, then I put my phone down so that I could give my mother my undivided attention.

I pulled her towards me and kissed her passionately. She struggled in my arms but she was no match for me; in fact her struggles were inflaming my desires. My cock hardened and I was sure that she could feel it pressing into her stomach through my trousers. My hand found her buttocks and squeezed them as I rubbed my cock against her. Mother gasped in my mouth as she felt the girth of my cock thrust against her tight belly.