Training Bra Read online

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  Training Bra

  by J. W. McKenna

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  BDSM Erotica

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  Renaissance E Books

  www.renebooks.com

  Copyright ©

  NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

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  CONTENTS

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

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  TRAINING BRA

  By

  J.W. McKenna

  ISBN 9781615080854

  All rights reserved

  Copyright © 2009 J.W. McKenna

  This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without written permission.

  For information contact:

  SizzlerEditions.com

  Sizzler Editions/B&D

  A Renaissance E Books publication

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  Chapter One

  Marti Andrews spotted the small lingerie store on her way to work one Tuesday morning in Manhattan's Chelsea District. The shop was almost invisible, tucked between a Jamba Juice and a generic cell-phone store on West 21st Street. “Stunners” it was called. Such a weird name. How a lingerie shop could survive here, she had no idea.

  “Opening Day Sale!” was bannered across the top of the window and another one proclaimed: “Best Bras and Panties Ever Invented!” Yeah, prove it. Most women would kill for a better bra. She walked by, staring at the mannequins in the window and admiring the smooth and sleek bras and panties. Well, what the hell, she thought. Marti made a mental note to check it out during lunch. It would make for a nice diversion from her miserable life.

  Marti was lonely. At twenty-eight, she had no boyfriend and no adventures to look forward to. No one was offering to take her on a romantic ocean cruise or fly her to Paris—not even invite her to a nice dinner out. She knew she was attractive—that wasn't the problem. She stood a petite five-four and had a cute face, brown hair and nice round breasts and hips. But after she'd broken up with Danny six months ago, she'd wrapped herself up in her work as a way to dull the pain. By now, she felt it was time to rejoin society, only society didn't seem to be interested.

  Marti was an administrative assistant—okay, secretary—to Mr. Harris, a handsome, charismatic, but very married, man. All the girls in the office envied her, although she felt it was more like torture to be so close to Steve Harris and not be able to touch him. He was tall, dark-haired, suave and athletic. The fact that he was nine years older than her didn't bother her at all. He was a dreamboat with a successful job—she'd jump his bones in a New York minute if he ever showed any interest. She thought she might have a chance when she was first assigned to him eight months ago—she could be the ear he might need when his home life grew strained. But by all accounts, Steve was happy with his wife, Claire.

  Damn it.

  Sighing, Marti went into the lobby and took the elevator up to the nineteenth floor where her tedious job would begin again, answering the phone and writing reports no one would read. As soon as she arrived, she noted that Steve was already in his office. That was unusual. Looking around, she saw few of the other executives were in, but most of their secretaries were. She knocked quietly and peeked in, hoping she wasn't in trouble. He was on the phone, his suitcoat draped over the edge of his desk, and he turned to give her a friendly wave, which made her loins ache. She nodded to him and retreated to her desk out front. She put away her purse and fired up the computer.

  Ten minutes later, Steve came out and smiled. “Hey, Marti, how's it going?”

  “Uh, fine Mr. Harris. Um, was I supposed to come in early today?”

  He waved aside her concerns. “Oh no. I had to come in to put out a fire on the Langstrom account. No big deal. Could you get me a cup of coffee, please?”

  “Of course, sir.” She jumped up and went to pour him a cup, making it just like he liked it, black with only a dollop of honey squirted in. She made an identical cup for herself. She stirred hers with a clean spoon and licked it before stirring his, pretending they were sharing a kiss. She hurried back and entered his office just as he was getting on the phone with another client.

  “Thanks,” he said, nodding and giving her a smile that could melt hearts. “You're a doll.”

  So why won't you fuck me?

  “You're welcome.” Marti retreated to her desk.

  She felt guilty whenever those thoughts intruded. Would she like it if she was married to a good man like Steve and some trollop in his office was subtly flirting with him? Hell no. That's why she had tried to maintain her dignity and not be too obvious. She didn't want to be a homewrecker. Marti had never met Claire but she knew they had two beautiful daughters. How could she think she could come between them? Even if he did have a fling with her, that's all it would be, a fling.

  She smiled. Maybe that wouldn't be so bad. After her breakup with Danny, Marti felt she might be ready for straight sex, no messy involvements. She doubted Steve would ever go for that. Workplace affairs can be big trouble, no matter how they start.

  Marti wrote up a sales report and answered the phone all morning, barely taking ten minutes to go to the bathroom and fetch herself another cup of coffee. When she looked up from her computer, she was startled to see Steve exit his office, pulling on his suitcoat.

  “Got a lunch meeting, see you after one,” he said, leaving quickly, his eyes concentrating on his cellphone.

  “Okay, Mr. Harris,” she called after him as he disappeared into the elevator. “I'll hold things down here,” she ended in a much lower voice that trailed off.

  God, I sound like a lovesick puppy! She admonished herself. She checked her watch. Eleven-twenty-five. Might as well go to lunch a bit early. She forwarded the phone to the central receptionist and picked up her purse. Sighing, she trudged to the elevator wondering where she might go to eat. She'd been everywhere. Everything bored her. Maybe a salad would be good, help her keep her trim figure. She rode down, ruing her miserable life and hoping she might meet a nice man someday who would take her away from all this dull torment.

  Outside, it was a warm late spring day which lifted her spirits. Marti went to Au Bon Pain for a salad and ate it outside at one of their small tables, all by herself. No good-looking men asked if they might share her space and get her phone number. Sighing again, she dumped the trash away and went for a walk.

  Without really thinking about it, she found herself strolling past the strange little boutique store she had spotted before, Stunners. Her mood brightened. It's a well-known fact that a good bra can make all the difference in a woman's attitude. A poor-fitting bra can make a girl cranky and mean, but a well-fit bra can lift her spirits—along with her girls—considerably. Maybe that's all I need, she thought, as she pushed the door open and entered the shop.

  The shop, she noted at once, was really a foundation store—there were no cute nighties or sexy robes on display—just bras and panties, all made from the same shiny material in a variety of colors. The store appeared to be deserted at first glance—hardly an auspicious beginning for the poor owner! As her eyes roamed over the displays, she was s
urprised to see a slightly built man with a balding head sitting behind the counter along one wall. Usually boutique shops like this were staffed by women to make customers feel more comfortable. Marti almost turned around and walked out, but her curiosity about these alleged wonder bras made her stay.

  “I know what you're thinking,” the man spoke up. “Why isn't a woman running this store? I know that would make other women feel more comfortable, am I right?”

  He seemed harmless enough, so Marti nodded and said, “It is a bit unusual.”

  “Well, these are my inventions and this store is a test-market for them. So to save money, I'm running the show myself. Although I may have to hire a woman just to get women in the door to see how amazing my designs are!” He chuckled and shook his head.

  “You just opened?”

  “Since yesterday. But I'm no Victoria's Secret, so not too many women have come by yet. But I remain hopeful that word of mouth will spread.”

  Marti nodded and looked over the displays. The bras were beautiful, she had to admit—sleek and shiny and very lightweight. They looked comfortable, but would they offer the proper support? She looked at some of the labels, but there were no price tags. Wanting to know more about them, she asked, “So how are these bras different from others?” What she really wanted to ask was: Why are you so interested in bras? Maybe this little man was gay.

  “I'm glad you asked! It's all in the material and how it's fitted. Most bras require a wire underliner to insure the proper support. My bras are made from space-age materials that allow full support and flexibility without painful sway or bounce. It's like you were suddenly seventeen again!”

  Marti smiled. “That should be your marketing slogan, if it's true.”

  “Oh, I can assure you, it is. Would you allow me to help you select one to try on?”

  “Well, I don't know...” She wasn't sure if she wanted this man fussing with her breasts.

  He held up a hand. “Oh, I know—you don't want a creepy old man anywhere near your body!” He laughed and she laughed with him.

  “You're not so old!” Suddenly she realized how that sounded.

  But he was not offended in the least. He slapped his thigh and said, “That's right! I'm just creepy! Don't worry. I approach this business like an engineer, you see. A woman's bra is a complex engineering problem that is very difficult to solve.”

  His scientific approach made Marti relax. “Well, they do look nice.” She glanced at her watch. It was barely twelve-fifteen. She had plenty of time. She looked up. “But I'm still a bit shy, you know.”

  He waved his hands. “Trust me, the last thing I want to do is to make you feel uncomfortable. I'll stay out of your way. I'm just dying to show off my creations.” He tipped his head and said, “Thirty-six C, right?”

  She nodded, amazed and a little embarrassed. “Yeah, how'd you know?”

  “I've been a designer of women's underwear for twenty years, starting when I was an apprentice at age eighteen! I know all the shapes and sizes by now.”

  Oh, he has to be gay, she thought. “Did you work for a big company?”

  “Yes, Maidenform. Twelve years. But I left to pursue my own design. It's always been my dream, you know, to have my own line out there, making women happy all over the world.”

  “So you've been working on these designs for the past eight years?”

  He nodded. “Yes, it's taken that long. Come, I'll show you.” He led her to a rack and, with another glance at her chest, selected two bras for her, one black, one ivory. He held them up. “Now, this is just a guess without measuring you, you understand. But try these on and see if you don't agree that they feel wonderful. Guaranteed!”

  The man seemed so eager that Marti found herself nodding and took the bras to one of two changing rooms along the back wall. She glanced over her shoulder and was pleased to see him standing in the middle of the store, leaving her alone, as promised. She went behind the curtain and yanked it closed. She took a quick glance around to see if she could spot any hidden cameras or peepholes. Satisfied she was alone, she unbuttoned her blouse and hung it up on the hook provided. She unclasped and shrugged off her bra and selected one of the two models to try on. She tried the one in ivory, very sleek and lightweight. It hardly seemed possible that it would hold her breasts into place like her current one, with its hidden wires and pads! What the hell, she thought and slipped it on. When she fastened the clasps and stood up straight, she was amazed. It felt like it was barely there! And yet, her breasts were completely supported. She turned to look at herself in the narrow mirror and moved her shoulders this way and that, eyeing the fit.

  The bra felt smooth and sexy and yet sturdy. It was like being caressed by hands, not cloth.

  “What's this made of?” She asked out loud.

  She heard the man's voice coming from the center of the small store—apparently, he hadn't moved. “It's a secret, actually. I can't reveal that. But I can tell you it's a space-age material that no one else has thought of to use it in this way. It's been patented too, so Maidenform and those others can't steal my idea. But once word gets out, I'm sure women will never go back to their old bras.”

  “It's quite comfortable. I'm just amazed that it can work.”

  “Oh, there's tons of research that's gone into it, I can assure you.”

  Marti nodded and practiced breathing in and out, bending down and standing up straight. Each time, her breasts felt as if they were well secured and didn't sway or bounce like they usually did whenever she wore a lightweight bra and yet they didn't feel constricted at all. With some reluctance, she pulled the bra off to try on the other one and noted a slightly tingling in her nipples as if they were sorry to see it go! She smiled and shook her head.

  “Be patient, girls,” she whispered.

  She tried on the black bra that she could already see would go well with her cocktail dress. It had less material along the top to allow for more cleavage, but it fit just as well. She wanted to strut around in it, but the dressing room was too small. Damn it felt good!

  “How much are these, anyway? I didn't see any prices.”

  She heard the man's footsteps approaching and she quickly took off the bra and put on her old one. It felt tight and uncomfortable immediately.

  “There're a little more expensive than a regular bra,” he admitted, his voice coming from right outside the dressing room.

  Marti slipped on her blouse and buttoned it up. She took the new bras and stepped out. The man immediately took two respectful steps back.

  “How did they fit?”

  “They were ... very nice,” she admitted. Her breasts already missed them. “How much are they?”

  “They cost ninety-nine dollars each, but there's a bonus.”

  Marti handed over the bras to him at once. A hundred bucks was way too much for a bra! “Well, they're way too expensive—but ... what's the bonus?”

  “They come with matching panties at no extra charge and to experience the full value of your purchase, they should be worn together.”

  That sounded very strange to her. “Why?”

  “It's just how they were designed. So when you think you're actually buying a bra and panty set, ninety-nine really isn't all that much.”

  Marti thought about it. “Maybe. But I don't know. I'd like to think about it.”

  “Of course! Take your time. And come back and visit me anytime!”

  She left and headed back to work. Her breasts felt pinched and uncomfortable. Damn bra! She hadn't noticed how poorly it fit before. She had others at home that should fit better.

  I'm not paying a hundred dollars for a fuckin’ bra!

  Another part of her brain piped up, But you're getting some underwear too!

  Shut up!

  Marti returned to her desk and started on her quarterly report, trying to forget about the funny little man and his expensive bras. Steve didn't show up until one-thirty and he just nodded and smiled at her as he went by. She ga
ve him her most friendly smile but it was lost on him, as usual. He was the perfect husband, damn it!

  As the afternoon wore on, Marti had more trouble with her bra. She had to go the restroom once to readjust it and cursed herself for ever going into that store! Her bra had been fine before, but now it pinched the sides of her breasts and seemed to scrape her tender nipples! By the time five o'clock came, she was beside herself.

  Mr. Harris came out and said it was quitting time and Marti wasted no time in grabbing her purse and fleeing. They rode down the elevator together, along with two other secretaries. Marti didn't say a word, her thoughts fixated on her aching breasts.

  Taking the subway home, she couldn't wait to get inside her apartment and lock the door behind her. Immediately her blouse and bra came off and she walked around naked from the waist up, rolling her shoulders from the ache.

  “Thank god almighty, I'm free at last!” She called to the empty apartment. Chuckling, she went to the refrigerator for some wine. Pouring herself a big glass she drank a third of it down at once and went into the bathroom to examine her breasts. Did Mr. Weird Man's bras do something to her?

  But a look in the mirror revealed nothing. Her breasts were the same as she remembered them, round and heavy and just starting to sag. By forty, they'd probably be at her waist unless she took better care of them. She sighed and went into her bedroom. She pulled out her most comfortable bra, a silk number that had a small wire for support, heavily padded. When she had bought it three years ago, it was like wearing a pillow. She slipped it on and breathed a sigh of relief. It felt so much better. This bra had cost forty-five dollars, less than half of what the boutique's bras had gone for. She made a mental note to buy a couple more. She took off her skirt and panty hose and slipped on some shorts and a T-shirt.

  Aaaaaahhhhh, that was better!

  Walking around the kitchen while she prepared dinner, Marti had to admit those so-called space-age bras felt the best. Even her padded bra didn't seem to fit quite right, although it was soft and comfortable. She ate dinner in front of the TV, watching a clothing design show and wondering if someone else has invented a better bra than the ones she had seen that day.