The Widow wore black (silk) - part 2
Added 2025-07-17 09:00:08 +0000 UTC
Megan checked her lipstick in the rear-view mirror and then stepped out of the car, walking through the underground car park to the lift. She approached the reception area where a girl was standing, waiting with a clipboard.
"You must be Megan." The pony-tailed blonde held a delicate hand out, which Megan shook. "My name is Ingrid."
The widow detected a Scandinavian accent from the smiling girl.
"It is nice to meet you, Ingrid." She realized she was still holding the hand of the friendly girl and let go.
"I have been asked to show you our schedules and procedures. Today we have only the one shoot, a girl named Tracey, if you would follow me." The petite blonde led the way, her outfit looking a little too short, Megan thought as she trailed behind. The Danish girl was wearing a figure-hugging grey zipper dress, made from a stretch bandage rayon which seemed to be pasted to her skin. The widow could see each arse cheek clearly defined through the material. The zipper itself was quite low, showing a generous view of her breasts. She had better get used to this, she thought to herself, now she would be working in the fashion industry.
As if reading her mind, Ingrid stopped and opened a door leading to a changing area, revealing the same dress in different sizes.
"For your first day, it is fine to wear your clothes if you want, but Sarah likes to project an image, and these are her designs. These have been assigned for you to take home. There are shoes provided to match, and they are also free." She pointed to the five-inch heeled, pointed-toe, strap sandals, and then closed the door before continuing into the studio.
The room occupied a large portion of the floor, divided into an open plan. A bedroom scene was created, adjacent to an area with a chaise, positioned under a lamp. An open space led to an open shower and bath, and another open area led to a green screen.
Ingrid stopped by the green screen and put her clipboard down on a small trolley, and picked up two pink juices.
She handed one to Megan. "These are Sarah's latest products, weight loss protein drinks, we like to show our support." She sipped at her drink, and feeling pressured, Megan took a sip of hers.
"It's a very pleasant taste," she said, taking a further sip. "What's in it?"
"I can taste Strawberries, but the rest is top secret." The sly blonde replied.
"It is certainly addictive." Megan laughed, sipping some more and not realizing how accurate she was with her comment. "There is something I can't quite put my finger on, but it tastes lovely".
"Drink up, girl, they are free, and I can feel the effect. I feel toned up." Taking the opportunity to invite Megan to appreciate her body.
A tall girl in her early twenties came into the room and walked over to the green screen. She was almost 6 feet tall with long, dark brown hair, layered with a mid-parting and curled edges; she looked like the girl next door. If that girl next door wore a plum colored, plunge halter neck, open-backed, flippy hem mini-skater dress. It hardly covered her, and her long, generous, slim legs seemed to go on forever.
"Megan, this is Tracey."
"Nice to meet you," Megan said, getting a smile from the young girl.
"Where do you want me?" she asked.
"This is Megan's first day, so why don’t you just move around the studio showing your typical poses, and she can learn from that. I am sorry to throw you in at the deep end, but I will have to leave in twenty minutes for an appointment, but I will be back as soon as I can. If you can just watch me and try and copy my methods, you should be ok. You won’t be judged on this shoot; it is very much an induction day."
"Oh, right, yes, I will do my best." She found herself nursing her drink like a comfort blanket, constantly sipping at it. The fact that the two girls were soon doing the same gave her reassurance to continue.
The model stood in front of the screen and threw a few poses, then moved over to the chaise where she lay with one leg bent, all the time, Ingrid was snapping away. The photographer would kneel so she was lower than the subject, then stand looming over her, she would snap from the back, creating a feeling of a dynamic photo shoot, giving the drink time to cause an effect.
Megan found herself looking down the front of the zipper dress, which seemed to slide down a notch every time the photographer moved. She felt happy, almost euphoric for the first time in ages, her previous sadness blown away at that moment. She had clarity of thought, she told herself, so she didn’t feel drunk; she felt almost horny in a nice, safe environment, as she cast a glance over the rear of Ingrid, who was currently bent over the model, causing the already tight fabric to stretch even further.
Ingrid stopped and handed the camera to Megan.
"Do you think you are ready to step in? Just to get a flavor of the pressure, your work won’t be judged."
"I can try, yes; I am sure with time, this feels easier." The widow replied after draining the last of her juice.
"That's great, you know where your outfit is, and Tracey, please get a refill for Megan while she changes."
Ingrid picked up the clipboard and wrote the time down on the sheet, giving the impression that everything that was happening was work-related.
"I will be back shortly, just do your best, keep it fun," she walked off, leaving the widow with Tracey.
*************
Megan slipped out of her clothes and put her zipper dress on; it sent tingling through her body. She had never worn anything that felt so outrageous in a sexy work-wear style, she told herself. Finding some of the teeth on the zip was defective because the zip just slid back down until she was showing the same amount of cleavage as Ingrid had. Somehow, right now, it didn’t matter; she was so gloriously happy, and it felt right, professional.
She put the sandals on and felt even sexier. She was happy, she told herself as she tottered down the hallway towards the studio, getting a feel for the heel and then striding confidently in her role as photographer.
Tracey was waiting with a drink in each hand. She had changed into another outfit, Megan noticed. This was a fine silk strapless evening dress with a low-cut front that showed a tempting amount of decolletage. It also had a thigh-high side split.
"Thank you, Tracey," As she took the drink and had another large sip, then put it down and picked up the camera.
"Follow me." The scheming model said and lay back on the chaise, raising a bent knee so that the dress fell open, invitingly showing her panties to the slowly drugged widow.
"Make sure you get me from all angles." The model said, placing her head fully back, exposing more breast for the camera to feast on.
Megan snapped away, telling herself she was doing well, acting professional, the lewd poses were exciting her as the model slowly spread her legs. A wave of excitement soared through the widow; she had had so much sadness lately, and now she was getting sexual excitement pouring into her. She wasn’t aware her nipples were as hard as the model's that pushed into the thin silk dress, or that the damp sensation in her panties was sexual leakage; in her mind, she was just so happy, nothing had ever felt so right in her life.
****************************
Sarah watched her through the studio's internal cameras.
"What was the dosage in the juice?" she asked Magarit, her Spanish assistant.
"That had a 10 per cent additive."
"You see how she subconsciously finds pleasure in other women? Just being near is exciting her. Inside her mind, she is becoming addicted, the juice giving her a sexual high more potent than any drug on the market. Later, she will need a fix, and without access to the juice, she will torment herself sexually to reach that high."
"It is good, the formula has finally proved successful. You have invested so much time into its creation, Mistress. Will you start shipping it now?"
"Yes, we can notify of a new improvement and start sending it out, focus on the girls' colleges first, then the women’s locker rooms. I need to see the reaction when the group's hive mentality is affected by the product. I don’t need any investigation this close to mass marketing."
"I will notify the production mistress; do you intend to take the subject?" as they continued to watch the blonde widow at work.
"What do you think?" Sarah chuckled, pulling Magarit into her arms.
******************************
Megan continued to snap away, as Tracey continued to spread her legs, her dress so low cut that her breasts had finally popped free, showing the hardened nipples on display. The model slid a hand down to pull the dress further apart, so now the thin panties were clearly on display, the fine spider spider-thin silk showing the outline of her vulva. The widow was on heat, her panties soaked, but still she could not determine sexual attraction; she wanted to be close to Tracey, it brought her pleasure. She found herself focusing on the barely covered cunt, not admitting to sexual craving even as she brought the camera closer and closer to the soaking snatch, which mirrored her slippery lovebox.
When she was at the point of almost surrendering and reaching out to the girl, Ingrid came back into the room.
"How did you get on? Considering it is your first time." She could tell by the flushed look on the widow's face that she was horny and needy and had deliberately interrupted her actions.
"I enjoyed it, I am happy to carry on." She almost begged, such was her need as the drug was now at its strongest, urges she had never considered flowed easily to the surface.
"You have done well; I have some forms you can do next for variety." Knowing the frustration would build and the need to climax would become all-consuming. Even as Megan sat and took the first bundle of forms, she had to resist the urge to touch herself and just enjoy the sensations that were rippling through her needy twat.
The rest of the day passed agonizingly slow; she found it hard to concentrate, every sense in her body wanted sex, she was attracted to Tracey, and the thought did not bother her, the need to climax pulsed in her mind in an almost primal state. She stared at the papers, but it was Tracey's panty-covered slit that she thought of.
As soon as Megan was home, she ran to her bedroom, threw herself onto her bed, pulled the zipper down, and slid her hand into her panties to relieve the unbearable ache that foamed inside. She slid her fingers in, thinking only of Tracey's obscene poses, quickly coming as she was overwhelmed with desire. She cried out in the moment of ecstasy and lay panting on the bed. She realized she hadn't taken her shoes off, which just seemed to turn her on even more. Sex had never felt this good before. She was already feeling the need for more release, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror with her hand down her panties, the dress unzipped fully, and her heels digging into the sheets just made her feel so slutty but wonderful. She needed this, she told herself as she finger-fucked herself to a second climax.