Chapter 66: Faye: A Fashion Show and a Warning

I’m sipping my morning coffee when the idea strikes me. A private showing! Something small, exclusive, and indulgent. A handful of Black cats in a room in the Recreation building, and a few pieces from my bondage wear collection. The kind of event that reminds people why my name still matters in club circles despite my extended absence.

And I know exactly who I want to model my latest creation ... Melissa. There’s something about her; a softness wrapped around steel that she doesn’t know she possesses. A kind of fragile grace that makes you want to look twice. She doesn’t realise the compelling combination of her beauty and demeanour. She has a natural innocence that draws those like me towards her.

I find Melissa in the gardens. As is often the case, she is kneeling beside a flowerbed with a trowel in hand. She looks up when she hears my footsteps, eyes widening just slightly. Not fear, but a suggestion of guilt. What has she to feel guilty about?

“Madame Faye,” she says, standing quickly. “Do you require something?”

“Yes,” I say. “You.”

Her immediate reaction is one of fright. She tries to hide it, but she’s not practised enough at dissembling.

“I’m hosting a private fashion showing tonight,” I continue. “A preview of my latest range for the benefit of a few Black cats. I want you to model a few pieces for me.”

Her eyes widen further. “Me, Madame?”

“Yes, you.” I smile. “You have a look that suits my collection perfectly.”

“What kind of collection, Madame?”

I delay my answer just long enough to make her nervous. “My bondage wear collection.”

Her cheeks flush, and she looks down at her shoes. “I’ve never worn anything kinky like that, Madame. At least, not before a group audience.”

“I suspected as much,” I say gently. “That’s part of the appeal.”

Melissa looks like she might panic and refuse.

I soften my tone. “You won’t be alone. Tessa will be modelling as well.”

Her head snaps up. “Tessa, Madame?”

“Yes. She agreed this morning.”

It’s a lie, but a harmless one. And a useful one as it sways Melissa’s reaction.

Melissa relaxes visibly, shoulders dropping. “Oh. If Tessa is modelling ... then maybe...”

“Good,” I say. “Recreation building, Room C, at seven. Wear your hair down.”

She nods even though she’s still flustered. “Yes, Madame.”

I leave her to her gardening, but I can feel her eyes studying me as I walk away.

Later that evening

Room E5C in the Recreation building is perfect for this kind of activity, with its soft lighting, polished floors, a long mirror along one wall. A small group of invited Black cats lounge on the sofas, murmuring with the kind of idle curiosity that precedes entertainment.

Tessa arrives first, looking nervous but determined. Melissa isn’t far behind although she looks as though she might bolt at any minute.

“Thank you both for coming,” I say. “The pieces are on the rack. I’ve labelled each of them with your name and the order in which they are to be presented. Go and put your first costume on. Wait behind the screen and I’ll come and make any final adjustments.”

Tessa gives Melissa a reassuring smile, which Melissa clings to like a lifeline. They disappear behind the screen. I join them a few minutes later. When they emerge before the audience, the room goes quiet. The leather harness that Tessa wears accentuates her generous tits. The tiny triangular piece across her cunt provides a teasing hint at what lies beneath. It’s one of my more recent designs combining leather straps and steel rings. A collective gasp rises from the audience at the sight of her. I know from past experience that Tessa is confident at wearing this sort of gear. Melissa, is hesitant but still graceful, awaiting her turn in the background.