The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Cathy was thinking. Even though she wasn’t the most girlie girl, she did like to be pampered occasionally. It wasn’t that she didn’t like to dress up ever, it was just that most of the time it was too much trouble and anyway she knew she looked good in almost anything, so why bother. Maybe it wasn’t fair to say Cathy was a typical modern girl, but she certainly was with the zeitgeist when it came to independence and taking charge; she liked men, she liked being taken out and pampered, but she wanted her freedom and she wasn’t going to let anybody, much less a bloke, tell her how to dress or how to live her life. Start as you mean to go on was her motto.

Anyway this was by the by now, Quentin – and yes that really was his name – had been invited to some sort of award dinner and it was full evening dress: minor royals and some quite well known celebrities were going to be there and Quentin had asked her to go as his date and offered to pay for a new evening dress, and for any hair or beauty treatment she thought she should have. She had been so excited, that she had even let Quentin get away with suggesting she needed beauty treatment. Normally she would have taken such an offer the wrong way just to keep him in his place, but this was going to cost him, so she felt she could afford to be generous just this once and anyway she was truly pleased for Quentin, she really was fond of him and hell he was one of natures nice guys, if anyone disserved an award it was Quentin. She might bully Quentin a bit, but she was also very protective of him, she didn’t let anyone else put him down, underneath all the posturing she was really quite proud of him.

Cathy’s problem was what sort of dress should she get and how did she get all the beauty stuff, the jewellery and the clothes sorted and coordinated. This was just a little out of her league. Quentin was very posh, a bit of an upper-class twit really, until you got to know him and realised that he actually had a genius level IQ and was honest and genuine: he would have no problems with all this, not that blokes had any trouble with what to wear at these sort of do’s anyway. She on the other hand felt a little like Julia Roberts in ‘Pretty Woman’ – pretty much unlimited funds, but no idea how to go about using them. She’d never spent more than two hundred pounds on a dress in her life, but Quentin had been talking about haute couture: originals, designer clothes that sort of thing. She had no idea where to start. She could ask Quentin’s sister Pam, she supposed, but Pam was a fully paid-up member of the green wellington brigade: very horsey, all tweeds and outdoor clothes. She was going to have to talk to someone, but whom? Then it came to her: Penny Jennings-Smith. They had been friends at sixth form college, but had sort of moved apart after Penny had left to go to some Swiss finishing school; Penny had been a little wild and her parents had sent her away as a last resort. She and Penny still exchanged Christmas cards and she knew Penny still lived in the area – the only question was whether she had her phone number?

“Penny is that you? It’s me Cathy, Cathy James.” Cathy said a little surprised that Penny had been in and answered the phone.

“Cathy, darling its been ages, simply yonks. How are you?” Penny purred.

“Oh I’m fine Penny. I’m sorry to phone like this out of the blue, but I need some advice and well…”

“Simply delighted to help, if I can, darling, but you know me – I was never the sensible one!”

“Oh I think you can help me here, Penny it’s about fashion and clothes and look I better explain:” Cathy went on to explain all about Quentin and the award. And they talked about their past and about mutual friends.

They had discussed various options all of which seemed dauntingly difficult to Cathy, when Penny seemed to reach a decision.

“Look Cathy I think there’s only one way foreword. I know a place which will organise the clothes fittings etc and will carry out all the beauty treatments and what have you. They’ll help advise and organise everything: they are simply the best, darling, but they are sort of exclusive.”

“When you say exclusive, you mean I don’t qualify sort of exclusive?”

“Oh no darling, the question is whether Quentin qualifies, you’d better tell me a bit more about him.”

“Well he’s your sort – I don’t mean as a partner – he’s very upper-class, you know boarding school with a strange name, then Oxford only he didn’t stop there he went on to get a PhD at Cambridge.”

“Sounds good and he’s clearly got money. What’s his surname?”

“Marchbanks, only he spells it M-a-r-j-o-r-i-b-a-n-k-s.”

“Oh he’s that Quentin, well I don’t think there will be any problems.”

“You know him?”

“No darling, I know of him, though we’ve probably met a few times at various do’s and functions – not often though he only dips his toe in society when he absolutely has to.”

“Ok, but I can’t see what Quentin has to do with me going to some makeover place?”

“This is a very exclusive health and beauty spa for wives and girlfriends of the rich and famous. The whole thing is really one giant joke, the lady who really runs it designed it as a way for ladies to get their men to willingly pay for and notice their ladies beauty treatments. The place is organised like a high class Garage, you know, the sort of place a gentleman would use to have his Rolls or Bentley serviced or repaired. Any appointment must be made by the gentleman and he will be asked what he wants done and the whole thing will be treated as though he were having a car serviced. He’s happy because it’s a process he understands and feels comfortable with, the lady’s happy, because she gets what she wants: exclusive pampering that’s second to none. It may be a little manipulative, but the darlings don’t mind being manipulated if we play to their egos and they do get something out of it as well: all men want their ladies to look special, it makes them feel special.”

“It sounds strange, fun but strange.”

“Oh it is fun darling – you’ll absolutely adore it, I guarantee.”

“What do I do then?”

“Well it’s called ‘The Girl Shop’ and the nominal proprietor is a chap called Peter Boscomb; you’ll need to get Quentin to phone and make the arrangements.”

Penny gave Cathy all the contact details and Cathy promised to phone back later and recount how she had got on. Well, thought Cathy, as she put the phone down, at least this will get me off the hook if Quentin goes for it. She was relieved that at last it seemed she had a solution; now, perhaps, she would be able to start enjoying all this, after all it should be fun!

Talking to Quentin would be easy, tomorrow. It was his company she worked for as a commercial artist in the marketing department. She did not usually contact Quentin during office hours, she felt that it was unfair on her co-workers, but this was different and anyway the award-do was work related, well at least sort of.

“High Julia it’s me Cathy, could you put me through to Quentin please.”

“He’s been quite busy this morning, but I’ll see what I can do – hang on please.” Came Julia’s reply. Julia was Quentin’s PA: young, pretty and ruthlessly efficient, she was worth every penny of her inflated salary and best of all from Cathy’s point of view Quentin was scared of her and Julia was not in the least bit interested in Quentin outside of the work environment.

“Cathy, it’s me.” She loved the way Quentin was always awkward when he talked to her on the phone, it was just so loveable.

“High Quentin, sorry to disturb you when you’re working, Julia said you were busy, I just need to talk to you about this award. I know you’ve got a lunchtime meeting but could we get together for half an hour sometime?”

“Oh that’s alright Julia’s a bully, but you don’t have to be scared of her, I’ve told her that I can always be disturbed if it’s you and why don’t you come up now, I usually break for a cup of tea and a biscuit about now.”

“Will do It’s my break as well, that’s why I phoned you now, I’ll just let my supervisor know I’ll be late back and come straight up.”

“That’s good, do you want me to square it with your supervisor?”

“God, no! Quentin I’ve told you before I don’t want to parade it in front of everyone that I’m going out with the boss, The fewer people who know the better as far as I’m concerned. I’m ahead on my current work, Janice won’t mind me taking a long break now, I’ll just take less at lunchtime to compensate.” Cathy was determined to be her own woman, there was no way that she was going to give people the idea that she would use her relationship with Quentin.

“Sorry Cathy, I um, err didn’t mean to um thingumy, you know, er interfere. Look, I’ll see you in a few minutes, um, er ok?” Quentin always talked like the archetypical upper-class twit, when he was nervous or felt wrong footed. Cathy often found it really rather endearing, particularly when, like now, it showed how much he cared.

“See you Quentin.” Cathy replied putting the phone down.

A few minutes later they were seated together on the couch in Quentin’s office drinking tea out of china cups and with posh biscuits rather than one of the Hobnobs she kept in her drawer. Julia had brought the tea through on a tray and had even poured their first cup for them before leaving them to their discussions.

“Ah that’s better.” Quentin observed as he took his first sip of tea. “Right then Cathy, what’s the problem?”

“It’s like this Quentin, I haven’t the first idea how to sort out a suitable dress and to get my hair done and the right jewellery and all that sort of stuff. Don’t get me wrong I know how to choose a dress and how to dress normally, but I’ve never had to dress like this, and I wouldn’t know where to start to get a designer gown on anything like that – you know me if it’s a dress-up do I choose the jeans without holes and iron my T-shirt.”

Quentin laughed nervously he did know what Cathy meant, but getting Cathy to really dress up for once was almost as important to him as getting this award. He really liked Cathy. She had a lovely personality, she was beautiful, she was interested in him, in fact she was everything he wanted, save that she was a little too independent – he just wished she would be more feminine sometimes. He didn’t want to change her, he just wished that occasionally she would dress for him, rather than for comfort. The idea of Cathy dressed to the nines was so enticing that it was worth any expense any effort, it would make the evening truly memorable.

“I wish I could help, I’ll even make the ultimate sacrifice and go shopping with you if you like.”

Cathy laughed. “It’s ok Quentin, I wouldn’t ask that of you, at least not after last time. I admit we girls do sometimes take you blokes shopping with a double purpose: the pleasure we can get from this exquisite torture is a piquant addition to the event. You, however, are so awful at shopping and so keen to help that the torturer suffers more than the victim, fear not you are safe.”

“Phew that’s a relief.” Quentin replied with a smile. “What do you want me to do? I could ask Mummy I suppose.”

“No that’s alright.” Cathy replied. Quickly. “I was talking to a friend last night, Penny Jennings-Smith, I think you might even know her slightly, and anyway she suggested a solution.”

“Jennings-Smith, does she have a brother Dickie?”

“Yes that’s her, though I never really met her family.”

“No I don’t know her then, but we may have met at the odd do or function.”

“That’s pretty much what she said about you, anyway she suggested this place that will help me with everything, but it’s kind of exclusive and you will need to make the arrangements. A word of warning though I think it might be kind of pricy.”

“Don’t worry about the money. I’ve got stacks of the stuff, I just want you to be with me and to be comfortable – what do I have to do?”

“Well I just need you to phone this place called ‘The Girl Shop’ and to tell them what you want and to make an appointment for me to go in and get the dress and to have my hair done and all. This is the number, you’ll need to ask for a Peter Boscomb.” She said as she handed him a piece of paper with the details written down.

“Do you think I should phone now?”

“Yes, that way you can make sure that we get suitable times and all.”

“Ok!” Quentin picked up the phone to the right of the couch and punched in the number and Cathy sat quietly, aware that she was only going to hear half of the conversation.

Quentin put the phone to his ear, he could hear the ring tone. Within seconds the phone was answered.

“The Girl Shop, may I help you.” Came the clipped tones of a well trained receptionist.

“Ah yes, I wonder could I er speak with Mr. Boscomb, that’s Mr. Peter Boscomb?”

“Is he expecting your call Sir?”

“Er no, your establishment has been recommended to me and it has been suggested that I ought to speak with him.”

“Very well, Sir, please hold the line a minute.” Then “Just a moment Sir, putting your through.”

“Mr Boscomb?”

“Yes how can I help you?”

“Well I’m attending the Proudwell Trust awards next week and my girlfriend needs to sort out a dress and all that goes with it. You’ve been recommended to me as being able to help in this regard.”

“Well Sir, that’s certainly the sort of thing we can do, I’ll just need to ask a few questions.”

“Fire away.”

“Might I enquire as to whom it is I have the pleasure of talking with?”

“Sorry I should have said, I’m Quentin Marjoribanks, owner and MD of Inteligent Software International.”

“Ah I’ve heard of you, in fact I think you’re friends with my cousin Freddy.”

“Freddy Boscomb, yes of course, we were up at Oxford together, anyway now we’ve established who I am, do you think you might be able to help?”

“Oh yes, we can certainly help. The Awards are a week Saturday aren’t they? I’m aware, because some of the other guests use our services.”

“Yes that’s right, so what do you suggest?”

“Well I suggest that you book this Memsahib in for a full service ASAP and that you bring her in yourself and go through the options with one of our qualified service engineers. Then we can give her a full treatment and assess her requirements. You can then book her in again on the Saturday afternoon and we’ll get her ready for the event: how does that sound?”

“Pretty good, I should say. I can spare some time tomorrow morning, how’s about I bring her round then and you can have her for the day?” Quentin was already thinking of this like having a car serviced, it was the way that Peter referred to it. He assumed, without question that a full service would take a day.

There was a pause at the other end and he could hear paper being turned, then: “yes that will be fine, shall we say nine then?”

“Right you are nine it is then.”

“Would you like me to fax you details on how to find us?”

“Yes please. Look I’ll bid you goodbye now, and transfer you to my secretary, so you can sort out all that fax business, ok?”

“Yes that’ll be fine, see you tomorrow Mr. Marjoribanks.”

Quentin quickly transferred the call to Julia and then turned to Cathy, who was looking more than a little surprised.

“Did you just book me in for a beauty treatment for all day tomorrow?”

“Well sort of, but I don’t thinks it was precisely a beauty treatment, I think they’ll want to sort out couturiers and that sort of thing.”

“Yes but the whole point of my being here was that you could check with me regarding when was suitable and I never expected it to take so long.”

“Look he said that they would need to see you as soon as possible and there’s a lot to organise, so I kind of thought a day sounded right.” He replied defensively.

“Yes, but I’m meant to be at work tomorrow, I can’t just swan off to the beauty salon for the day.”

“Yes you can. This award is good publicity for the company, that has an affect on Marketing after all; anyway you work for me, ultimately. I will have Julia explain to your supervisor that you are on a special assignment tomorrow, ok?”

“I guess so, I can see that some of this needs to be sorted quite quickly so I suppose we have no choice.”

“Right I’ll pick you up at your place at eight thirty and cheer up, I bet you’ll have a wonderful time.”

Cathy smiled and gave Quentin a quick hug, before kissing him quickly on the cheek. “You’re right I am looking forward to it. Thanks I’m really grateful, its just all this business of dressing up and all makes me a little nervous.”

“I know darling, but you are really beautiful, you’ve nothing to be nervous about.”

“Thanks. Look I’d better get back, I’ll see you tomorrow at eight thirty, unless you want to come for eight and I’ll make you breakfast.”

“Sounds good – see you at eight.”

“Well that was nice, I must remember to have you around to make breakfast more often.”

“Well you sort of disserve it this morning, I think the rest of the day is going to prove a little costly.”

“You’re worth it. Come on we had better go.”

Cathy dumped the plates in the sink and they left. Soon they were in Quentin’s car on their way to ‘The Girl Shop.’

The traffic was bad and it was almost nine as they walked through the doors into the plush reception. The pretty receptionist looked up. “Good morning Sir, may I be of service?” She enquired deferentially.

“Yes thank you. My names Marjoribanks and Miss James here has been booked in for the beauty stuff and all that.”

“Ah yes I have the details here. Please take a seat and Mr. Boscomb will be along shortly.”

Quentin and Cathy barely had time to move towards a plush looking leather sofa, before the door at the back of the room opened and very dapper, middle-aged man with receding grey hair appeared in front of them.

“Mr. Marjoribanks, Miss James?

Quentin noticed the slight querulent stress on the ‘Mr.’, it was very subtle and spoke well of Boscomb’s discretion.

“That’s right I’m Mr. Marjoribanks.” Quentin replied, himself putting a subtle stress on the ‘Mr’.

“It’s an honour to meet with you both, I’m Peter Boscomb and very much at your service.” At this point Boscomb reached out and shook Quentin’s hand. “Please allow me to escort you though to a meeting room. Can I offer you tea or, perhaps, coffee?”

“Tea would be good, thank you.” Quentin replied as he and Cathy followed the distinguished looking gentleman from the room.

Boscomb lead them into a comfortable meeting room. Quentin couldn’t help noticing the pretty woman sitting at the table. As soon as she was aware of their presence she got up.

“Please allow me to introduce my associate Miss Charters.”

Miss Charters dropped a curtsey to Quentin and nodded to Cathy. This somewhat surprised Quentin, These days it was almost unheard of to see a lady curtsey as a greeting, save in very formal settings. Boscomb noted Quentin’s reaction as he continued.

“You will notice that we are very punctilious regarding social interactions here and that we still follow the old courtesies. Please sit down, both of you. Boscomb then held Cathy’s chair and quickly seated her with the utmost aplomb. Immediately Cathy was seated Miss Charters also sat, allowing Quentin and Boscomb to seat themselves. Just then there was a single knock and the door opened to find and attractive young girl demurely garbed and with a full maids apron, who was pushing a trolley with a tea service.

She curtsied and speaking to Boscombe, politely asked: “would you like me to pour, Sir?”

“No that’s alright, please put the tray in front of Miss Charters, but wait she may need you to pass the cups.” The girl did as she was bid and then retired and stood back by the wall, just behind Miss Charters.

Miss Charters, carefully and correctly poured the tea and each cup was taken by the maid to the relevant person. The ritual complete the maid moved the tea tray back to the trolley.

“Louise, you may remove the trolley now and thank you that will be all.”

Louise, the maid, bobbed another curtsey and quickly and quietly left pushing the trolley.

As soon as the door was closed Boscomb became all business. “Welcome to our little establishment I will be taking personal responsibility for our dealings and would ask that you feel free to contact me at any time Mr. Marjoribanks. Miss Charters, here will be responsible for controlling the actual services that we deliver. We normally like to introduce everyone on a first appointment, you wont be dealing directly with Miss Charters very often and will normally conduct your dealings through me. Perhaps you would like me to explain our services in more detail and then we can discuss your immediate requirements.”

“Thank you that would be helpful.” Quentin responded.

“We provide an exclusive service to an exclusive clientele. These services involve all aspects of feminine clothing, beauty and just basic pampering. The important thing is that what we provide is quite simply the best. We are discrete, sincere and loyal, which can make the service especially valuable to some of our better know customers. We are also a little unorthodox in terms of how we deal with our clients. This service is aimed at the gentleman, to access on behalf of his lady. We only deal with the account holder and tailor our service delivery accordingly.” He paused and looked at Cathy. “Please Miss James, I would ask you to bear with us and enter into the spirit of our little game, I promise you will be well taken care of. Miss Charters, here, will look to your every need and consult fully with you to ensure that all your needs are fully satisfied. Your wellbeing is of paramount importance to us, so please forgive me if for the rest of the interview I treat solely with Mr. Marjoribanks, I assure you that Miss Charters will talk with you later and explain.” So saying he looked expectantly at Cathy.

“That’s alright Mr. Boscomb, I was warned by a friend that this would happen. I will do as you ask for now.” Cathy was expecting this, but it was still a bit strange. However, she could see it as a bit of a play act a sort of giant joke and she was quite happy to play along, though she might give Quentin a bit of a talking to when it was all over, but that was just to make sure he didn’t get any ideas about who was in charge.

“Very good. Now let’s see. You were wanting the full treatment, designer clothes for the Proudwell award, jewellery and all accessories?

“Yes that’s right.” Quentin responded.

“Well what we will do today is our full first appointment service. Miss James, will be fully measured and assessed and we will determine what treatments are best. We will also have her feet measured and lasts made so that we can arrange for hand made shoes in her size. Over and above that we will arrange for fittings for various gowns . Do you wish to be present for the fittings in order to choose?”

“No I’ll leave that up to you and Cathy, but would perhaps like photos of the final shortlist.”

“We will arrange that.”

“Now about the hair?”

Cathy had very beautiful red hair; it was thick and wavy and hung half way done her back, but it was becoming a bit of a nuisance to manage, and now that Quentin was hooked she was thinking of taking about six inches of the length, to tidy it up and make life easier in the mornings.

“I was thinking it should be cut shorter, it would be a lot tidier.” Cathy interposed.

“I’m sure Miss Charters will take note of that.” Boscomb answered and then to Quentin. “Do you have any requirements?”

“Well I like long hair and if were up to me I would want it much longer, but I do recognise you need to do what ever is necessary.”

“Very good. I suggest that we look on today’s service as a full assessment and I guarantee we will contact you before we make any irrevocable changes, or if anything unforeseen crops up.”

“Sounds good to me, when will Miss James be ready to be collected.”

“She should be ready by five-ish, but it’s probably worth phoning to check.”

Boscomb got up and Quentin felt it was his cue to do the same.

“Well have a lovely time Cathy, see you later, bye”

“Bye darling.” Cathy replied with a little wave.

And with that Boscomb ushered Quentin out and towards the front desk. As soon as the door was closed behind them and Cathy out of earshot he started talking again.

“Don’t you worry old chap she’ll have a ball, I promise. We usually find that after the first appointment things are a lot easier. “

“Right you are – talk to you later.”

And with this Quentin left, satisfied that Cathy was in good hands.

As soon as the gentlemen left, Miss Charters, seemed to take on an air of authority. She turned towards Cathy with an open and friendly smile.

“Right then Miss James, we can get down to business.”

“Yes?”

“You’re right, I should explain.” Now there was a definite twinkle in Miss Charters eye. “You, my dear, are going to have a ball. We are going to give you the works and that rather attractive gentleman of yours is going to pay and be pleased.”

“Quentin would be pleased whatever, so long as I am happy.” Cathy offered feeling for some reason slightly defensive.

“Oh I know, dear, but we want to make him really happy. You see what we have here is quite simply the best little set up there is for making woman feel good and we find that if we can make the men folk feel good as well, then isn’t that even better?”

“I suppose.” Cathy answered tentatively.

“Look don’t worry, we will talk more as the day progresses and I think you will see what we mean.” Miss Charters smiled.

“Ok I can handle that.” Cathy answered with a smile of her own.

“Before I take you through, would you just stand up for me so that I can get a proper look at you?

“Sure.” Said Cathy standing up, but feeling a little self conscious.

Cathy was a pretty girl, slim, with perhaps a slight hint of rounding, particularly round her tummy which was not quite as flat as it once was and certainly not as flat as she had always wanted it. She had nice legs, long for her height, which at five one and a half (that half was very important to Cathy) was a little on the short side. She had good buttocks, her best feature she thought. Her breasts, though not large were right for her and were high and firm. She had delicate almost elfin features, with green flecked eyes and tiny hands and feet. She was wearing a tight pair of jeans a T-shirt and her favourite sandals with the three inch heels. Cathy usually wore heals if she could because she was a little self conscious about her height.

“Turn please, right round slowly.”

Cathy complied, feeling very awkward.

“Thanks, I just wanted to get a first impression. You are very pretty and that long slim neck of yours is going to wear jewellery wonderfully. Come on follow me, I’ll take you to your suite.”

“My suite?”

“Oh that what we call our treatment areas. We deal with all our clients in specially kitted out private areas, that way we can ensure your privacy. You aren’t looking for anonymity, so we can visit the common areas at lunch time and perhaps for the odd break.”

“Oh.” Cathy would have said more, but just then she followed Miss Charters into the most amazing room. It was simply the most luxurious, dressing room that Cathy had ever seen. She could see that there were a number of doors in the walls and assumed that these would lead to the other treatment areas, perhaps baths or showers and places to have her hair done.

“Sit down, please, Doctor Kamatso should be here in a minute.”

Cathy sat on one of the very comfortable arm chairs. Then there was a knock at the door and a very striking oriental lady, wearing full Japanese dress, entered.

“Miss James, please let me introduce you. This is Dr Kamatso our chief medical officer.”

“Good morning Miss James.” The doctor opened in perfect English.

“Good morning Doctor, please call me Cathy.” Cathy replied.

“Thank you Cathy-san, I am the chief medical officer here and I need to give you a full medical before we proceed. Please will you sign these forms. They authorise me to examine you and identify me as your beauty specialist, this will allow me access to your medical files and will mean that I can update your medical records with any treatments we undertake, or with any findings or observations as necessary.”

This all seemed eminently sensible to Cathy, so she quickly read the forms through and signed.

“Ok Cathy-san, please follow me.”

Dr. Kamatso took Cathy though one of the side doors to another room which turned out to be a fully equipped examination room.

It had certainly been a strange day Cathy felt completely and exquisitely drained. Trying on the dresses had actually been enjoyable; she had some photos and a DVD to show Quentin, but there was only one dress, really: it was amazing, it was sleek, sophisticated and most definitely alluring; it made her feel utterly special, just wearing it. Emily, Miss Charters, had fiddled about with her hair, but it was soon clear that the only style that really worked was with the hair long in a very loose plait with little silver and sapphire tassels, woven in. She has realised that she wouldn’t be having her hair cut this time. The hairdresser had had to take nearly half an inch off in order to tidy up the frizz and split ends, but had used a special treatment, which he guaranteed would help to stop that happening again. Then they had treated her scalp with a special hormone salve, which really did cause increased hair growth. It was horrendously expensive and not officially available. This one treatment would ensure that the half inch was back before the award do, in fact it would, she was told, mean that her hair would grow from three to five inches in the next four weeks. Well that would please Quentin.

She had been in real trouble over her shoes. Dr. Kamatso had been more than a little cross: apparently she was in serious danger of doing actual damage to her feet. The Doctor had explained that it was not a good idea to where heels all the time, but that if one was going to do so then the shoes should be properly fitted and that it was essential that she do some special foot exercises. The shoemaker, who had seen her early on, had been told that he was to make a replacement set of heels for her to go home in and the offending shoes had been disposed of. The Doctor had then told her that she was to throw out all her shoes and that properly fitted replacements would be made. The physiotherapist had visited her and given her feet and tummy exercises. She had also been given a special band to wear about her tummy at night which she had been told would stimulate her muscles and give her the flat tummy she wanted.

Now here she was sitting on the sofa, sipping tea. Her hair, her nails, her skin even her teeth had received attention. The effect though marked was subtle, this was quality work. She knew that she looked good and this made her feel good. Suddenly she was jolted from her reverie, Emily was speaking.

“Cathy, dear, you’ve had an amazing day; you look wonderful and I hope you feel wonderful.”

“Oh I do – I do.”

“Well dear, it is and ill wind that blows nobody any good, as they say. You need to make Quentin feel special. Tell him that you thought about what he said and that you have decided to let your hair grow – let him feel you did this for him. You aren’t being manipulative you are giving pleasure and anyway its always nice when the dears feel that they owe us something!” Emily said smiling at the last part.

“Ok, I can see that he would like that, its just that I have always tried to make him realise that it’s me that decides what I’ll wear and how I’ll look.”

“Well you did decide, it wont hurt to let him think that your decided to please him, that’s not giving up control.”

Cathy thought about that and had to agree, it made sense and anyway part of her was feeling good with the idea of letting Quentin feel that she was pleasing him. “Alright, I can see that would work.”

“Now about the dresses show him the pictures and the DVD give him the choice.”

“What if he chooses wrong?”

“Trust me he won’t, not unless he sings soprano in the choir and has been hiding something from you for a long time.”

“But he’s a man and they don’t always think the way we do.” “It’s precisely because he’s a man that I know he will pick that dress, but don’t worry there will if necessary be problems making the others in time, ok?”

“Ok.”

“Now when he comes to collect you, you will be presented like an object he has paid for. Go with it, stay quiet and submissive, it wont hurt you and it will make the process more enticing for him. Remember if he likes what he sees, he will want to do this again.”

“I do feel a little naughty playing this game, letting him feel that he has chosen everything and that we have gone along with his wishes, but on the other hand I suppose I play these same games all the time on a smaller scale.”

“Don’t worry, he’s not stupid he knows that he is being pandered to, he knows that you are playing a game, its just that this is a game that men can’t resist he will be enjoying it and that means that he will want to repeat the performance. The trick for us will be to find some carrot for him every time so that he feels that he is getting something out of the arrangement.”

Cathy was just about to reply when there was a knock on the door and one of the maids opened it to tell them that Quentin was there to collect Cathy.

“Thanks Fiona, that will be all.” The maid curtseyed and left.

Emily looked at Cathy and said. “Ok then lets go.”

Quentin and Peter Boscomb were seated in leather arm chairs chatting as Emily knocked and ushered Cathy into the pleasantly appointed reception room.

Quentin and Peter immediately stood as they entered.

“Good evening ladies.” Peter opened and then went on: “Please Miss Charters, your report.”

“Good evening Sir, Mr Marjoribanks.” She replied curtseying quickly to each. “Please sit down.” They sat.

“It has been a good day, we have narrowed the dress choices to three, Miss James has photographs and a DVD showing her modelling each of the possibles. The Doctor has had reason to admonish Miss James and she has been instructed to not wear any of her own shoes. The shoes she is wearing now are new and more new shoes will be express couriered tomorrow. Miss James has in accordance with Mr. Marjoribanks directive decided to let her hair grow and we have styled and prepared it accordingly. Finally we have taken steps to ensure that Miss James is able to exercise her tummy muscles, this will give her a much flatter tummy.”

Peter turned to Quentin. “Well how does that sound Mr. Marjoribanks?”

“Very good, and she certainly looks stunning. I knew she was beautiful, but now I am beginning to realise just how beautiful.” Cathy smiled at that and gave what she thought of as a mock curtsey. Quentin seemed very pleased by this.

“Well if there are any problems let us know and you can always bring her back.”

“Thanks, and if that is all I’ll take her then.”

“Fine fine, well we will be seeing you again Saturday week at eleven.”

“Until then.”

Cathy and Quentin were back in Quentin’s car and on the way back to Cathy’s flat.

“Well did you enjoy yourself, and what was that gumph about shoes?”

“It was amazing! You know me I’m not all that much of a girlie girl, and I don’t think that’ll change, but that doesn’t have to mean I shouldn’t enjoy being girlie every now and then. I didn’t expect to enjoy it, but I did, I was treated like royalty and they made me feel really good about myself. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I’m so pleased that not only have I decided to let you off telling them you wanted my hair to be kept long, but I have actually decided to keep it long just for you. I think I should mention that this whole being pampered business has meant that when I get home, you and I have some serious business to conclude in the bedroom, though I might have to jump you before we get that far.”

“Thanks for the warning, I think I’ll risk it though.” Quentin replied smiling. “But I say again what was that stuff about your shoes? I think you are trying not to answer me.”

“Oh nothing really.”

“Really?”

“You’re not going to leave this are you?”

“Probably not.”

“Thought as much.”

“And?”

“Well I’m right you’re not are you?”

“No, and nice try; now talk wench.”

“Oh its just that I could damage my feet if I don’t wear properly fitted shoes and that I should do special feet exercises if I am going to wear high heels so much.”

Quentin was certainly not going to do anything to stop Cathy wearing heels, it was the only really feminine clothing she normally wore, so he had to be careful. “Well look here you better do what that Doctor said then, you don’t want to damage your feet.”

“I guess. Look I was going to talk about this. I don’t think it’s fair that you should pay for my entire shoe and boot collection to be replaced with hand made ones.”

“Oh so that’s the issue. Look darling if I hadn’t been going to this award, you wouldn’t have been put in this position. Look after your feet I don’t want to be going out with a girl who needs a zimmer-frame. Do what this Doctor says and don’t worry about the shoes, think of them as part of the package.

“Oh Quentin, I do love you.”

“And so you should, now lets get you back and deal with that bedroom problem of yours.”

It was Saturday the day of the award ceremony. Quentin had picked up Cathy as arranged and here they were at ‘The Girl Shop,’ just before eleven.

“Good Morning Sir, Madam.” The smartly dressed receptionist greeted them. “May I help you.”

“Yes my name is Marjoribanks and Miss James here is booked in for a dress fitting and some other stuff.”

“Oh yes sir I have the details here. Please take a seat, Mr. Boscomb will be through in a minute.”

Very shortly Mr. Boscomb came through. This time they were ushered into a reception room rather than the meeting room of their first visit.

“Please sit down both of you. Miss Charters will be through in a minute to escort Miss James away for her treatment. The dress is ready, an excellent choice if I may so Mr. Marjoribanks she looked ravishing in it, she will, I am sure, be a credit to you.”

“Thank you, but the praise is to you and your staff for finding such a beautiful garment.”

“You are too kind, but swiftly to business eh what?”

“Yes there is much to do today.” Quentin agreed.

“If all is well I suggest that we discuss further requirements at the time of the next service, though I should warn you that Miss Charters advises that regular services would be sensible. She suggests that you book a half day service in about two to three weeks, she is concerned that if you are looking for significant hair growth in the short term it is important that we keep up treatment.”

Quentin reached for his pocket organiser and quickly checked. “The afternoon of Tuesday the seventeenth would be good.”

“Excuse me a moment.” Mr, Boscomb spoke into a mobile. “Yes that would be fine shall we say one thirty?”

“One thirty it is then.”

“Will you be bringing Miss James, or would you like us to collect her? I think it might be useful, if you could spare the time, for you to bring her; that way we could discuss further requirements.

“I will bring her.” Quentin agreed.

Cathy was shocked, it wasn’t like Quentin to do anything without consulting her, but to book her in for Beauty treatment, without even checking with her first and with her their in the room, now that was strange. She could only figure it was because of the way Mr. Boscomb talked and the way this whole set up worked. It was almost as if they were forcing Quentin into a certain course of action. She was party to this ‘set up’ she had to admit, she was conniving with them to stroke Quentin’s ego regarding this place and yes, it was paying off, she was getting another appointment. She kept her peace, she let it happen. Did that make her bad of dishonest? No she realised Quentin was a big boy and could make his own decisions. He knew what was happening, he was going along with it because he wanted to: Quentin liked her looking pretty. She did resolve to talk with him subtly, before the next appointment, but that was just to make sure.

“So then any special requests for today.”

“No just let her look as pretty as she is.”

“An easy task, then Sir.”

Later when Quentin collected Cathy he was literally awestruck. She was, he felt, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

After he had managed to stutter out his compliments, it was clear that Cathy was very pleased with the effect she had on him.

That evening she was quite simply the belle of the ball and every time Quentin left her side suitors were round her like moths round a flame.

Later in the car on their way back to Quentin’s house, Cathy whilst cuddling up to Quentin said. “Darling that was the most wonderful night of my life. I felt like a fairytale princess, all those people, Lords and Ladies, celebrities and we were with them: we were the guests of honour. I felt like Cinderella.”

“I am truly happy that you enjoyed it, it was special for me. I can’t begin to tell you how proud I felt to be with the prettiest girl at the party. You disserve some very special loving tonight.”

“That could be fun too, your Lordship.”

“What me?” Quentin asked nervously.

“Well not really, but you are a Lord to me and to that drunken woman that kept calling you ‘my lord’ at the party.”

“Well I thank you for my ennoblement, your royal highness the fairytale princess.” Quentin answered with more than a touch of relief.

A little later sweaty tired and properly ‘seen to’ Cathy was thinking that just maybe she ought to consider dressing up more often if it was going to get her loving like this. Tired and happy she drifted off to sleep.