This Old House

By iSpyStuff

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It was Sunday afternoon and as usual I was cruising in the Windstar on the way to Sherman Field for another afternoon of Little Tikes soccer. Jeremy and Josh, my twins excitedly argued about which one of them was going to score more goals, while I tried to imagine what the conversation among the soccer moms was going to be this week. I didn’t think I could take another discussion like last week, in which the other moms discussed exercising, dieting, and how they bounced back from having kids, like it was drug habit they kicked or something. Now I’ll admit I’m not in the best shape of my life but I never thought anyone else thought of me as out of shape until Shirley Mitchell said  “Yeah my problem area used to be those damned saddle bags, just like Mary. “
 Those words hit me like a cold bucket of water. Just like Mary? Who? Me? I have saddle bags? They all looked at me like I was supposed to agree with her. I wanted to punch Shirley Mitchell right in the face, Pow. But instead I sat there shocked with a dumb smile across my face while the other women all stared at my thighs. “…But I got on the stair master and, not any more.” Shirley stood up and showed us her butt, nicely packed into a pair of short shorts. “Ooo, looking good girl” Nancy Wagner said as all the women made approving sounds. “You should get one Mary, they’re expensive but they are so worth it.” Shirley added.
            “Someone please say something.” I thought to myself. Finally salvation arrived by way of Jacky Norman. “Oh, Shirley I love your hair, it looks different what did you do to it?.”  “I got it cut, do you like it?” Shirley said looking almost nervous. “Did you lighten it? Jacky asked.
Gulp.
Shirley froze like a dear in headlights; obviously she wasn’t as willing to talk about her hair color as she was about her perfect ass. “No, it’s the same as always.”  A smile crossed my face as Shirley squirmed. Next time she points out my thighs to the crowd, I’ll just ask her flat out if she dyes her hair. We all new she was a bottle blonde, her dark roots were fairly obvious despite her efforts to keep them touched up. I’d just love to see if she’d admit it. It’s funny how people who fake it are the only ones who think they’re getting away with it.
            I turned the van onto Sussex and got stuck at the light on Waverly.  On the corner was a Remax sign showing an open house from 2-4pm at 23056 Waverly, with a nice picture of a smiling Janice Marcus the real estate agent. Waverly was such a great street, full of old Victorian homes, it would be fun just take a walk through even though I knew I could never afford to live there.
            The light changed and I drove on down the street. In a few minutes I was pulling into the park. I dropped the boys off near their field and drove around looking for a spot in the crowded parking lot. Jeeze, every mom in town must be here. Is there no life outside of a kid’s soccer game? Then I saw Shirley Mitchell looking like she was arriving for a date, with her make up perfect, her gold earrings, and an inappropriately short skirt for a kids soccer game.  I looked at myself in the rearview mirror, made one more pass and when I arrived back at the entrance I kept on driving right out of the park, back down Sussex to the light on Waverly where Janice’s picture was smiling at me. Time for a little me-time I thought to myself.  I turned up Waverly and pulled up in front of 23056, a huge old Victorian in need of paint job, but otherwise quite wonderful.
            I walked through the huge double front doors into a large foyer where I was greeted by a soft voice. “Hello, can I help you?”
            To the right, just off the foyer was a woman with dark hair, a huge smile and a bright red suit and pumps, sitting at a round oak antique table. Janice Marcus.  “Oh hi, I just wanted to have a look around.” I said walking toward her. The room was well lit from the sun coming through the windows, and as the light fell upon me, Janice eyed me from head to toe, the smile fading fast. I guess my sandals Khaki shorts and God Bless America tee shirt weren’t the stuff of $600,000.00 house deals. The light wasn’t particularly kind to Janice either, as it shown on her face it revealed the years she was trying to hide with heavy make up and false eyelashes. I’d guess she was about fifty, even though her figure and hair were that of a woman in her early thirties. I looked again at the way her hair shined in the bright light, and the way her breasts bulged out the top of her tight scoop neck top. I fought back a smile as a thought to myself; Shirley Mitchell, eat your heart out.
            “Oh, well the owner wants to keep showings to serious buyers only.”  Janice said, as she looked me over again. My jaw slid a little sideways as I could see where this was going.
            “Oh well my husband and I are in the market for a new house, and this one might do, after a little fixing up that is.” I looked around with the snottiest expression of disgust I could muster.
            “Well you do understand this house is six hundred and ninety five thousand dollars.” Janice said as if she expected me to run screaming back down the front lawn to my mommy mobile.
            “Oh, is that all?” I said raising an eyebrow. “Then I really must see it. Where would you like to start?”
            Janice smirked. Her intimidation tactics hadn’t worked, and since there was no one else in sight, she was just going to have to waste a few minutes of her precious time on dumpy old me. This of course did not mean she was going to pretend to enjoy it. Of course I couldn’t care less about the house at this point, but fresh off my run in with Shirley Mitchell I couldn’t escape this feeling of wanting to taking one of these vain phony women down a few pegs, and Janice looked ripe for the picking. “Yeah, why not, sure.” I thought to myself.  I was going to have a little fun with Janice Markus.
            “You know we get so many people trying to come through, who could never in a million years afford a house like this.”  Janice added to let me know she wasn’t fooled by my charade and in doing so erased the last reservations I had about what I was about to attempt.
            “I know, don’t you hate it when people pretend to be something they’re not.” I said to her with confidence looking her straight in the eye, and then letting my gaze wander up to her hair, then fall to her bust line, and finishing up with a survey of her entire figure. Janice shifted on her very high heeled pumps, not a lot but enough to let me know she may have picked up on my innuendo.
            "Well this is the foyer, it features a 20 foot ceiling with a domed leaded glass skylight. The chandelier is real Waterford crystal. The large sweeping stairway leads to the second floor and its banister and trim are solid mahogany." Janice said with anchor women smoothness as she began to walk toward the door at the far end of the room, as if to lead me into the room beyond the foyer. As she walked away from me, the sexy, exaggerated sway of her hips caught all of my attention. Her red skirt was straining over her quite perfect looking flanks, and I was truly astounded by how attention getting her ass was. The line of her hips was an unbroken, unblemished smooth sweep from her smallish waist to her hemline. Out and back in, like a perfect hourglass which she swung from side to side like a Hollywood bombshell with each careful step she took in her tall spiked heels. Most amazing was the definition of her ass as it met the top of her thighs. It jutted straight out in a spectacular display of firmness and shapeliness, that had no jiggle, no shake, and no dimples; all displayed by Janice's overly tight red skirt, as it relentlessly clung to all this perfection,  unspoiled by any visible panty lines. There was no way this 50 year old hag in a wig and pushup bra had an ass like that. I figured she must be wearing something to shape her up. I decided I needed a closer look, and that long stairway looked like the perfect place to get it. I walked over to the stairs and said loudly "So, are all the bedrooms on the second floor?".
            Janice turned looking slightly surprised to see that I hadn't followed her to the far side of the foyer. She said simply "Yes", and stood there posing as if she did not plan to change direction and head my way.
            "Let's start there because if this old house doesn't have the closet space I'm after, the deals off. Ha Ha Ha." I chuckled. Janet flashed her bright whites from across the room and sashayed her way  towards me. I looked for signs of  the underpinnings that I hoped to find out were the cause of her fantastic and almost certainly artificial curviness, and I was happy to see some evidence that my suspicions were correct. It turned out that old Janet had VPLs after all, and the reason I couldn't see them on her ass is because they were down on her thighs. Janet's thighs had a nice well defined ridge running across them just a few inches above the hem of the skirt, that looked like they was created by something squeezing her thighs. How positively comical, I laughed to myself as she drew nearer and the obviousness of her faux pas became clearer and clearer to me. She clearly picked that exceedingly tight skirt in a deliberate attempt to display her spectacularly taut bum, but she clearly hadn't counted on the fact that it's tight cling also revealed that Janet's shapely bum was as phony as the rest of her. I was going to find out for sure.
            Janet paused at the bottom of the stairs waiting for me to go first, and that wasn't going to do at all. "After you." I said not sure of exactly what inflection to use to coerce her to accept my invitation to walk in front of me. As it turned out Janet needed no coaxing. She stepped on the landing with some difficulty due to the tightness of her skirt but it was a difficulty she seemed used to dealing with as she glided past me with her ass swishing back and forth as if it were the tail of some giant fish, propelling her forward with smoothly fluid, yet reciprocating motions. I waited just until her perfectly sculpted derriere was at eye level and then I followed her up the long stair case, just few steps behind, matching her speed of ascent, step for step. My eyes again were drawn to the improbable perfection of her pouting posterior, perfectly displayed by the imitation silk material it was so tightly swathed in. At this close range I could see the pull in the seem that ran up the back centerline of her skirt as it traversed the apex of her tush, then disappeared in the hidden zipper. Doubtful she could have been packed in any tighter, and that was not working to her advantage from my vantage pint at least. With each step up, Janice's skirt strained across the back upper thigh of her trailing leg. As it did the flaw in her otherwise smooth silhouette made itself even more clearly apparent than it had been when she walked toward me. It could clearly be seen that Janice's thigh suddenly expanded in diameter at a point under her skirt that was just a fraction of an inch above where the slit ended.  It became suddenly obvious that I needn't rely on circumstantial evidence any longer. I slowed just a touch and allowed Janice to get another half step ahead of me up the staircase and tilted my head ever so slightly to the right and peered up into the slit in her skirt. I gasped at the sight of it, even though I knew it had to be there, I gasped anyway at Janice Markus' girdle! I was surprised by the  gleaming whiteness with which it displayed itself against the backdrop of her tanning-bed produced bronze legs. Clearly Janice's vanity table possessed no mirror which could show her this angle; how unfortunate for a vain real-estate agent who must have to lead prospective buyers up staircases quite often. As I looked on, filling with a sense of  mischievous purpose, I was amazed at how tight the stuck up hip swayer's girdle was. The cuff of it was made of several layers sewn with repeated and heavy stitching as was the seem that ran up her inner thigh. It looked stiff and unyielding as it crushed into her, and Janice's soft  inner thigh bulged even more than what could be seen through her skirt in the front and back. The thought of her discomfort was rewarding and I could barely contain the feeling of satisfaction at knowing her embarrassing secret. I began to picture her struggling to pull it on this morning, her face red and straining, as she tugged and wiggled and gripped to the limit of her artificial nail tips. Pulling and grunting and squeezing her out of shape flanks into that severely over worked girdle just to fool housewives like me into thinking she still had it.  I had every intension of letting her know I wasn't fooled.
            As we reached the top Janice's skirt had spun so that now the rear slit lined up with her left leg. Janice smoothed her hands over her hips and thighs but didn't seem to notice that her sexy sheath had rotated and looked obviously disheveled from behind.
"There are six bedrooms on the second floor." Janice said as she turned back to look at me, upon which she glanced me up and down again and added "So how many children do you have?"
"How did you know I had children?" I asked, hoping I could steer this exactly where Janice only thought she wanted to go.
Janice smiled "Oh, mommies have a certain look, you know" she laughed and reached out and touched my hand in a sympathetic way. My blood boiled but I wanted to give her more time to dig her own grave.

I let my jaw drop open and said as shocked, but as playfully as I could "Is it that obvious?"

Janice laughed. "I knew right away, but don't feel bad it's my job to know these things, I'm an expert."

"It's my figure isn't it?" I said as I rubbed my hands over my tummy and then slid them down my hips to the saddle bags that Shirley had so outspokenly verified existed this morning.

"Well, everyone says that having children will do that to a woman's figure." Janice said through her capped teeth and condescending smile.

"That will teach me to leave the house without my girdle." I said as I sucked in my gut and pressed my saddlebags back into place. Time to see if Janice would fess up like a good girl.

"Ha Ha Ha Ha, Oh gosh hehehe does that do the trick?" Janice laughed aloud at my self deprecating frankness. As if she didn't know. Was that little question the makings of a denial?

"Oh yeah. Just between you and me, it's a lot easier than working out, it's just that they're so uncomfortable, you know. " I said without a hint of question in my voice. That'll set the table. Let's see how old lead bottom handles that one. Come on Janice, don't try to deny it. I saw that heavy paneled lycra wonder you've got on under that shorter than you thought skirt of yours. The secrets out honey, admit it. Come on….

"Actually, I wouldn't know." Janice lied smoothly and confidently. "So far I haven't had to resort to such drastic measures, but you never know, maybe when I'm older I might need such a thing.  Ha ha ha." As she giggled condescendingly, she patted her flat stomach with her hand, a gesture that she may have made to create the appearance that she was laughing so hard her stomach hurt. But I read it as a subconscious little give away that she was assuring herself that her triple tummy panels were still there, doing their job of hiding the truth about her seductive stature.

Bitch.

A feeling of righteousness and satisfaction washed over me as I eyed the improbably curvy sex pot.  I was glad the perfectly coiffed and girdled glamour puss had lied; it cleared the last remaining reservations about what I had every intention of doing. OLDER? Who does she think she's kidding? This chick was old enough to be my mother, and she was implying that I was older than her! Did she really think a drawer full of foam and lycra beauty props was going to convince me that she was younger than me? Still I had to play along a little further.
"Oh, come now Janice, every woman needs a little figure help once in a while." I said in a semi whispering tone.

"Sorry to disappoint you Mary." Janice purred, "but not all of us need help in that department," as her lips twisted into a very satisfied and victorious smirk.

"Oh, you must be one of the lucky ones." I said a little colder than before as I very obviously scrutinized Janice's figure one more time.

"I guess so." Janice said with a cool stare, but her coolness was another veneer as she, clearly,  now concluded my probing stares were rooted in doubt as to the authenticity of her claims about the lack of any necessary figure enhancement where her voluptuous and tensed proportions were concerned. "I mean I think it's important to look nice, but I'm not going out of my way to draw any special attention to myself…"As she spoke, Janice smoothed her hands over her hips and then tugged her clinging blouse down as she took a deep breath. As her hands moved around the hem of the blouse from front to back, her fitted blazer was forced open, displaying her spectacularly pushed up breasts, and I was thrilled to notice, the slight midriff bulge created by her sturdy sub-waisted lycra paneling.

 "…But you'd never know by some of the reactions I get. I mean you'd think I was showing houses dressed in  an evening gown or something from the catty reaction I get from some women."

            Janice was smooth. It was suddenly obvious that she was trying to turn the tables by creating the impression that only catty bitches would suspect that her glamorous attributes were anything but natural. She was using this story of another woman to paint an unflattering picture of any woman who revealed herself to be jealous of her sucked and stuffed silhouette, in the hopes that I would get the message and back off.

"Oh?" I said.

"I must make them jealous or something, especially the one's with husbands. Why just last week this woman said to me 'Oh you have the nicest shade of black hair I've ever seen, what brand of hair coloring do you use?'  …and she asked it right in front of her husband." Janice looked me straight in the eye as she bounced the ends of her perfect, black shiny locks in either of her hands and said, "Well I looked at her and said 'Oh I don't color my hair.' Can you image trying to embarrass me like that? I mean, really, I must have been a real threat to her ego or something." Janice flipped her silken tresses over her shoulders and added "Some women's vanity really gets the best of them sometimes. It's so unflattering."
            Janice strutted away with not a millimeter less sway in those lycra enhanced hips. She was absolutely shameless, a trait that probably served her well in the real estate game. I took a deep breath, and laughed to myself at the thought of teaching Janice a lesson about the dangers of false pride. I also laughed at the new twist to her stunning outfit. As Janice sashayed away, her sexy little red skirt was still twisted out of position allowing the slit to align with her sculpted thigh, and display, with each sexily exaggerated step, the cuff of her white industrial strength girdle!
            Janice marched through a large open door at the end of the hallway and lead me into the a large bedroom. I followed, watching the out of position slit just beneath her tightly packed tush and tried to find a way to make use of the shapely stunners now visible girdle.
"Oh, Janice, something is showing around the back of your skirt dear. What is that a slip…or? Oh! It's a girdle! My, my I thought you didn't need one of those. Hahahahahahaha….."

"This is the master bedroom…." Her words brought me back from my delicious daydream. "As you can see it exquisitely appointed in the finest hardwoods including the solid mahogany mantle that surrounds its very own fireplace. It has 400 Sq ft. of main floor space, and separate his and her bathrooms that are located at the far end of separate walk in closets." Janice gave her rehearsed spiel as she paused to primp her hair in the huge mirror over the fireplace.
The size and extravagance of the room caught me a bit by surprise, for a second I wasn't focused on tearing her skirt from her tightly encased hips and ending the illusion of her perfect derriere once an for all. Then I looked back again at that thick, perfect, shining pile of black silk that framed her overly made up face and tried to imagine what was underneath. That laughter was back, welling up inside me as I pictured one of those nylon stockings stretched over her head, with lots of bobby pins in it. That look would certainly be in sharp contrast to the glamorous vision of  beauty that stood before me, gazing at herself in the mirror.
Then something else about Janice caught my attention, only this time it wasn't something false, it was real, something undeniably real, that revealed more about her than any shot of her getting out of bed in the morning, boob-less, wig-less, and girdle-less could have. It was the look on Janice's face. Her lips were pursed tight in a kind of smirk and her jaw was cocked just off center, which along with her flaring nostrils gave a look of intense envy or jealousy. It was then I noticed the picture of the lady of the house on the mantle. A stunning blonde, about the same age as Janice I suspect, only even more well preserved. Janice's glare told the whole story. She was jealous of her employer, how terrific, and with good reason the lady of the house was quite a stunner, and she apparently knew it as her pictures were all over the room.  Time to put them to good use.
            "My, is that the owner" I said pointing to a large portrait of a blonde woman in a ball gown which hung over the bed.
            "Yes, that's Ms. Jenson." Janice said in a smooth understate way.
            "Wow, she's quite a stunner isn't she?" I made sure to keep adding questions to the point so Janice would be forced to answer.
            "She's a very pretty woman." Janice answered flatly, then tried to change the subject.
            "Through here you can see one of the truly special features of this master bedroom. There are two very large, walk through closets, each with it's own private Bathroom at the far end."
Janice opened a rather conventional looking door on the large windowless wall at one end of the spectacular bedroom, and stepped aside so as to give a clear view of the spectacularly spacious closet that existed just beyond the understated portico. I stepped into wonderland.
            Ms. Jensen's closet was the envy of any living breathing woman on the planet. No less than 30 feet long, the closet was nothing less that a fairly large room by normal standards. The entire left hand side was a double row of hanging ranks for what looked like enough clothes to fill a department store. The only interruption in the continuous flow of designer niceties was a three panel, full length mirror, half way from the door to the far end of the closet. The right hand side was made up of beautiful cherry wood shelves and drawers on either side of a center vanity table with a huge lighted mirror, that was situated directly across from the three way mirror, giving the Ms a perfect three hundred and sixty degree view of herself, is she should care to have one. From the looks of this closet, she most certainly did. Time to see if I could turn up the jealousy meter.
            I strolled into the closet running my fingers along the hanging clothes, looking at them wide eyed, like a child in a toy store. I paused at a gold lame evening gown and pulled it off the rack, holding it up to my body.
            "Wow, look at this", I said admiringly. "isn't this just gorgeous?"
            "Um…those are Ms Jensen's private things, and I'm sure she wouldn't appreciate you touching them." Janice looked at me with a very disapproving eye.
            I, of course, ignored her and prattled on. "Geez she must have some figure to wear this, I mean look at how clingy it is. Boy this would show off all my figure flaws. It would take more than a girdle to get me into this dress. Gosh can she really wear this? I hate her already, hahahah".
            "Well if it makes you feel any better I think Mrs. Jenson would have a little trouble fitting into that one herself. Hahahaha.." Janice purred a seductive catty giggle and I could tell she was suddenly very interested in discussion the purported proportions of the lady of the house.
            "Oh, so maybe she's not so perfect after all..Hmm?" Janice was hooked, I could see in the crooked smile that was forming in the corner of her mouth that she was loving the idea of knocking Ms Jensen off her pedestal, and elevating herself in the process. Careful Janice, elevating yourself like that just make's it easier to see up your skirt. Hehehe, I chuckled to myself at the thought of what was under Janice's skirt, squeezing her to death at this very moment as she smiled away with her ultra bright smile, confident that her girdle and wig, and god known what else were secrets no one would ever find out about. After all we weren't in Janice's closet.
            "No, You don't have to hate her. Well, at least not for being perfect anyway. Hahaha. She's not perfect" Janice giggled.
"Oh really?" I said a little disbelievingly as I looked again at the dress enviously and reached inside for the tag. "Size 6, sounds pretty perfect to me." I said sarcastically.
"Don't get me wrong, Jessica looks great in her clothes, she really does, but I wouldn't be surprised to find out she's getting a little help creating that bombshell figure of hers."
"Hahaha, oh your kidding? You think she…you know…fakes it a little?"
Janice leaned in close to me and put her and on my upper arm as if what she was about to say was very important. She lowered her voice just a little and looked me right in the eye as she began to giggle, "Hehehe, well let's just say I've seen her at a lot of functions and I'm pretty sure it's more than just a little." Janice broke out into laughter as she finished and I played along laughing hard but with a look of wonder on my face.
"Oh, like what? Now you have me wondering." I said as I gave Janice's elbow a little nudge with my own, "Do tell."  I prompted her slyly.
            "Well, as for her being a size 6, hardly. I 'm pretty sure she needs a girdle to get into that dress every bit as much as you would." Janice said as she looked disbelievingly at the gown and my hips. "She looked rather 'packed' into it the last time I saw her wearing it." Janice said smugly
            "Oh, you actually saw this dress on her?"
            "Oh I'm sure of it. It was at the Chamber of Commerce gala just last month, and truthfully,  I think most of the women at the event remember that dress, but certainly not for the reason Jessica had hoped for. She was trying to make a 'big' impression by wearing this tight little sexy number, which is unfortunately what she did, if you know what I mean." Janice began to chuckle devilishly again. "With this shiny thin material, there was just no hiding the fact that she was wearing a rather heavy girdle underneath….the poor dear." Janice sympathy was as fake as her hair, which she smoothed again as she glanced in the three way and ran her hands over her bum as if all this girdle talk had reminded her to check that her own rather constricting underpinning weren't showing.
"And speaking of 'big' impressions, " Janice's eye kept popping wide as her bejeweled and manicured fingers made a pair of quotation marks in the air every time she said 'BIG', "that plunging neckline was no help in hiding the fact that her bust line was nothing more than a 'big' 'impression.' Hahahahahaha"
            I couldn't help but laugh at that one too. "Oh Janice, are you saying what I think your saying?."
            Janice began to speak but her mouth was tightening up from being filled with laughter and words at the same time. Only the sheer enthusiasm for dishing up the dirt, on Jessica's thought to be secret figure enhancing, got the words out through the mountains of laughter bouncing around inside. "Well I mean, she's wearing this low cut neckline." Janice grabbed the dress and held it up to herself, "…that's cut down to here, can you see who low this is?" she turned sideways and pressed the dress against her to use her ample chest to demonstrate where the bottom of the plunging neckline of Jessica's gold evening gown would end. " and underneath she is wearing, what must be, the most…" and Janice's voice broke into a whispering tone worthy of the dirty secret that was about to roll off her tongue, "…padded bra I've ever seen!"
            "Hahaha….Oh god that's hysterical! So you mean you peeked, you know …" and I moved my head back and for the in a kind of mock, sly, trying to see something I'm not supposed to kind of motion. "…down her dress?"
            "Well there she was leaning over the buffet table with this plunging low cut number on.." Janice said gesturing again to the sexy gold evening gown. "and, from the side, all of a sudden I can see her whole bra, and it just doesn't look right…you know what I mean?" Janice again reach her arm out and placed in on my shoulder, we were girlfriends all of a sudden.
            "Yeah kind of…" I said laughingly, but leaving a sense of curiosity in the hopes that Janice would display the depth of her expertise in this area.
            "Well I could see it was one of those deep plunging push up styles from Victoria's, which you'd expect under a dress like this," Janice's voice began to get to change again, back into that deep devilish tone that made me feel like I was about to hear the juiciest secret in the whole wide world. "…but it just didn't fit her right, the poor dear…" her speech was breaking up again as she again became overwhelmed by the pleasure of her embarrassing comments about Jessica's transparent attempt at falsifying her bust line. "…so when she reached for the Caviar…" Janice began to act out in full detail the leaning, reaching, move made by Jessica that night, under Janice's  watchful, and apparently photographic eye. Janice reached in such a way that her right upper arm pressed into her right breast. "…her cup got pushed away from her…you know….chest, and suddenly I could see that even though her dress was sticking out to here…" She motioned with the hand indicating where the summit of Jessica's breast were. "…her nipple was way back here." Her hand moved to a new point several inches closer to her chest than previously.
            Janice laughed an embarrassed controlled laugh, as her eyes stared into mine searching for my concurrence with her satisfied emotional state. Clearly her admission had shed a lot of light on her character, and my belly giggling laughter clearly made her feel she had an accomplice. Which, I actually had become. What started out as a plan to play on Janice's insecurities, was turning into great time discussing the false beauty tricks employed by the also artificial Ms Jessica Jensen. In truth it was great to have someone to laugh along with like Janice, there's something more humiliating about having another woman there who understands how satisfying it is to discover that the enviable figure of some glamour queen is secretly the result of heavy paneled girdling and obscenely thick padding. And Janice understood that all too well, and her hypocrisy was making the fun we were having with Jessica's secret curve inducing underpinnings even more exciting. I was having a great time.

"Oh the poor women, I'll bet everyone in the place was on to her after a while. Ha ha ha. Say Janice, does Jessica always wear that stuff or was it just to fill out a special dress?"

"Hmmm, I'm not sure. Although she always looks great, you know. She doesn't strike me as the type to go anywhere without looking her best."

"Yeah, I'll bet. You know we could take a peek in her drawers."
            Even Janice was a little shocked at my brash idea. A little gossiping was one thing, but actually rifling through Jessica's intimates seemed to strike Janice as the equivalent of breaking and entering.
"Oh?" Janice said in a bewildered shocked kind of way.
"Well, sure. If her figure is really a fraud, then she'll need to wear all of her little girdles and falsies and stuff everyday, so she'll need lots of them. Otherwise she's be standing around the laundry room every morning in her bathrobe waiting for her figure to be ready to put back on! Hahahaha…"
            Janice broke out into a twisted evil laugh. She was enjoying this much more than a women with an obviously contrived figure should. I was just plain astounded by the complete lack of humbleness or reservation, or nervousness on her part. I mean I had seen her girdle in all its heavy duty glory, squeezing  her thighs so tight it's a wonder any blood was getting to her toes. Yet here she was laughing hysterically at the thought of another women wearing one. Had she no shame? Not even an ounce of guilt? Maybe it was all an act to fool me. Perhaps Janice felt that the best defense was a good offense. That if she laughed at how ridiculous it was for a woman to falsify her appearance, than I wouldn't suspect her of doing exactly the same. For sure that was a part of it, but that couldn't be the whole answer. No one was that good an actress. Janice was truly enjoying taking Jessica down, because, I surmised, she must just be that shallow and petty. She was so sure that I didn't have any idea that she was wearing a girdle, that she was confident enough to laugh about Jessica's. I had had and heard enough, it was time to undo miss Janice Markus.

"Come on let's have a look." I said excitedly

"Oh …well…I…"
"Oh come on Janice don't be such a prude, is there really a difference between peeking in her drawers and peeking down her dress?" I asked in a comically accusing tone.

"Well it's just that, well what if she finds out?"

"Oh come on how is she going to find out?" I said dismissively.
"Well, I'm sure we can get away with a quick peek." Janice giggled.

I pulled open Jessica's top drawer. It was a huge wide, deep heavy drawer, but it slid smoothly and without resistance like a fine and expensive piece of furniture should. An explosion of colors became visible as the drawer continued out of it's enclosure, revealing the contents within. Domes shaped patches of red, blue, and pink satin arranged neatly and orderly took up the entire space within the wooden confines of this most intimate of inanimate spaces. It was Jessica's bra drawer. I reached my hand over the ocean of brassieres, thinking, searching, for some reason hesitating as if I would only get one chance to pick a winner. Finally I reached down to a lovely peach number with  lace covering its formed satin cups, and slipped my fingers inside the cup and gave it a slow gentle squeeze.

"It's thick!" I whispered excitedly to Janice as if someone were around to hear us.
"It looks it." She said smugly. Then she bent her eye brow just for second as if thinking. "How thick?"
"Well the top is pretty thick….about a half inch." I said as I probed around the cup with my fingers. "but…but the bottom is..Wow… the bottom is more like an inch thick!"
Janice began to laugh a deep slow satisfied laugh as her quickly executed plan to humiliate her employer had worked so flawlessly. I went from bra to bra and they were indeed all padded in the same thick, bottom-heavy style.
"Janice, they're all padded." I said in my best prosecuting attorney voice. "So she must wear them all the time."
"Oh, how funny!" Janice said as she slipped into a condescending kind of laugh.
 "She really wears a lot of padding." I giggled "and they're all that push up, plungy,  look at my cleavage, type of show-off bra."
"Bra? Falsies with straps is more like it, don't you think? Ha ha ha ha." Janice wasn't letting up. "That's Jessica, always showing them off." Janice said through a knowing smile as she reached in and fingered one Jessica's thickly padded cups.

"Hahahaha, she should be a little more careful about showing them off if they're actually this fake." I said, having removed one of the brassieres from the drawer and holding it with one cup in each hand as I peered into it squeezing and examining it.
"I mean, you'd have to be crazy to attract this much attention with your cleavage, if your actually wearing this much padding. I mean she shouldn't wear such plunging necklines."

"And such cheep foam rubber padding. You'd think she could afford something more natural." Janice said almost without thinking as she continued to pinch the padded cup of Jessica's bra between her fingers.

"Oh like what?" I pounced on Janice's lead. Just what did she know about padding options anyway?

 "Hmmm?" Janice said as she was suddenly awakened from some deep thought as she studied the contours of Jessica's padded bra.
"What do they make that's more natural than this?" I said as I pressed Jessica's bra up against my breasts and examining them n the mirror. "This looks pretty real."
"Oh I don't know. Yeah I guess it does." Janice stumbled.
I looked at her own cleavage, bulging up out of the top of her scoop neck blouse.
"I kind of look like you." I said as I eyed her bust line suspiciously.  "Say you're not wearing one of these, are you Janice?"
Janice looked at me with an expression of mock shock on her face. She was obviously trying to make it look like I was joking by playing along , hence squelching any possibility that I might not actually be joking. She set her hands on her hips as she spread her smallish, tight fitting blazer open to show of her D-cup breasts, complete with slightly protruding nipples.
"Excuse me, but I'm all natural." She said confidently.
"Too bad we can't say that about Jessica, can we? ." I squeezed Jessica's padded bra, examining it again as I looked at her quizzically.
"Ha ha ha, that's for sure." Janice chuckled and then she said, a bit surprised, "I just thought that…you know…she'd get implants or something if she's vain enough to wear so much padding. It's not like she can't afford them."
I stared at Janice's improbable chest and began to wonder if I maybe she wasn't padded after all, but had implants. Her breasts had a bit of bounce, I noticed, and those nipples showing through were ruling out that her bra was padded. They certainly looked like implants, big round and perfect, but it was the cleavage that kept me thinking they had to be falsies. She had too much space between her boobs so that her cleavage wasn't as full as the rest of her bust line. This gave the impression of a pair of small boobs being pushed up and in, by something that was filling out the rest of her chest. Still, they didn't look like padding. I needed a closer look.
            I placed Jessica's thickly padded bra back in the drawer as I had found it.
"Hey Janice, what's in that bottom drawer?" I said in hopes I good get her to lean over and give me a better view of the perfect rack of hers. I stalled for time by neatening up Jessica's breasts so as to leave no evidence of our snooping, and to give Janice a chance to bend over for that bottom drawer as I stood up looking down at her.

"Hmmm Ok, but this goes against my better judgment?" Janice said as she bent down and reached for the handles. I of course was focused on her neckline. Turn about is fair play, I heard someone say once, and if Janice had first spied Jessica's secretly worn padding by peaking down her top, than the view I was getting had more than evened up the score. Janice's whole bra came into clear sight as I angled for the best view of what lay hidden beneath the taut fabric of her clingy blouse that stretched across the full, round, silhouette of her bountiful bust line.  Her bra had smooth pink satin cups and was cut every bit as plungy s Jessica's sexy bust boosting confections. I maneuvered a little more towards her so that now I was right next to her peering into her blouse from over her shoulder and looking forward and down into the cups of her bra.
            Janice grabbed the handles of the drawer and slid the massive wooden container of all things secret towards her. She peered inside like a child opening a present, but my gaze remained affixed to the satin, and wire that were visible beyond her daring neckline in the secret place beneath her clingy blouse as they caressed, molded, and formed her voluptuously sexy bust. If her boobs appeared fake, looking at her from the front, this view was doing nothing to change that impression. The edges of those smooth D-cups were not, as they should be, pressed against her bountiful cleavage but were instead suspended, some distance away, as if  something were wedged in between. Although I angled desperately to get a look from all possible angles, I just couldn't see far enough into her cup to get a glimpse of what it might be. I did however see what Janice was smirking about as I gazed into the open drawer she was squatting in front of.

"Look at all those girdles!" I said laughingly.

"Oh my! Well I guess Jessica's firm shapely tush needs a little help to look so spectacular. I knew it!" Janice said in her particular, snobby, triumphant way.

As Janice bent over the drawer, the fabric of her skirt became stretched to the point of straining about all angles of her flanks. The very definite depressions across her thighs from her own extremely tight and supportive, yet up till now not admitted to, girdle became almost laughably visible.

"They look heavily paneled, much more so than the one I have. Thank goodness we don't have to wear one of those everyday, eh Janice. It must be so uncomfortable to be squeezed like that all day. I mean how would she so much as sit, or bend over?"

"Er…Uh…yeah…I wonder how, hahahahaha."  Janice laughed, although she surely was feeling the effects of her own lycra paneling in her squatting position. I stared at her well packed rump as I analyzed carefully, the tone of voice in Janice's response, listening for at least a hint of guilt that should result from the giant hypocrisy of laughing at the idea that Jessica couldn't bend over in the tight girdles that Janice was inspecting. An inspection that could only be carried out by  bending over in her own tight girdle.

"Hey, see what size she wears?" I said.
            Without hesitation Janice reached for a white satin heavy paneled girdle, and as she did, her smallish blazer raised up that last few inches that were covering her waist in the back. As if on cue, the top of her skirt and something else became visible. There, between the waist band of her skirt and the bottom of her blouse, which had also risen up, probably pulled by her jacket, in plain sight was the heavy looking, white, shiny, top few inches of Janice own secretly worn girdle. "Snap it!" I thought to myself…"Now's your chance!"

"It's a medium" Janice said. "And get a load of the panels on this thing, will you. She must be more out of shape than I thought." She giggle slyly as she stood back up with one of Jessica's lycra spandex, derriere sculpting, tummy flattening, heavy paneled girdles.
            I looked at the girdle. It was every bit as formidable as Janice was describing, and from the glimpse I had just gotten, it seemed equal to the one Janice was secretly wearing that very second under that tight little skirt of hers.

            But my chance for an all embarrassing grab and snap of her girdle's waistband had past, and I thought of what to do next. As she continued to giggle at the falsities of Jessica's  figure I formulated my plan. It was time.
            I reached for the bottle of Joy perfume on the Jessica's dressing table as Janice bent down to replace the decidedly un-sexy, yet sexy-silhouette educing, undergarment. I removed the top and moved carefully and directly over Janice as she  stooped, straitening Jessica's girdle drawer. I looked down, and again the bright shiny flash of her exposed girdle caught my eye, but I would not snap it, the time for that plan had passed and the new one was truly much more complete in its deviousness. I readied the bottle above her taking careful aim.

"Oh this perfume is divine, you should smell it." I said as I paused for just a second, ready.

"Oh, don't touch that. She'll know….." She turned and tried to stand quickly in a hurried effort to keep me from doing something stupid with Jessica's $400.00 bottle of fragrance.  Too late.
            Janice's shoulder bumped into my hand just as I had planned it to happen, causing me to spill the contents on her blazer and the back of her skirt.

"Oh! Janice I'm so sorry, but you shouldn't have jumped up like that."

"Oh no! Look what you've done! It's all over me!

"I'm sorry"

"Oh god, do you know what you've done? She'll smell me! She'll smell it all over me! She'll know I touched her perfume! MY Reputation, it'll be ruined!!!" Janice whaled.

"Oh what's the big deal? Just tell her you dabbed a touch on, she wont mind. Right?" I said hopefully.

"Oh you just don't understand. It's a trust. As a realtor I'm trusted with people's privacy. They expect…no…demand that we don't go rifling through there things!"  she said steadfastly.

"Oh, well I guess you made an exception when it came to finding out about how natural her figure was? Hmmm?" I said sarcastically.

"ME? That was your idea!" Janice said as if she were practicing her denial for the court case.

"Janice Markus! It may have been my idea, but I do believe that you rifled through her girdle drawer all by your self."  Janice stood there dumbfounded and still very panic stricken. Time for phase two.

"Look, what time is the overstuffed, tight-ass due back?" I asked like a women of action.

"Just after four PM." Janice said, her panic seeming to go on hold as she listened, as though I might say something that could save her.

"Well, that's perfect. It's only one o'clock, so all we need to do is take the suit of yours to the one hour cleaners on Bailey St. and you'll be as good as new by three thirty."

"And what am I supposed to do in the mean time? Stand around showing the house in my thong and heels?" Janice said sarcastically. I had a tough time holding back the laughter, a thong? Who did she think she was kidding?
"No you'll have your girdle to cover that up, Janice! Hahahahaha!" No not yet, I could wait just a little longer.

"No you can slip into one of Jessica's suits. You're about her size right?"  Janice stood there blinking, like a dear in headlights. I could see the wheels turning in head as she was trying to decide if there was any liability in trying to 'slip' into one of Jessica's size sixes. Of course Janice was very close to Jessica's size, both natural and corrected I would imagine.

"What? Wear one of Jessica's suits? Isn't there another way?" Janice asked desperately.

"Can you rinse it out?" I asked

"Oh I doubt it! I think this suit is dry clean only." Janice said as she removed her jacket and began to examine the fairly large spill down its back. With her jacket off, one layer of camouflage had been removed and the secrets to Janice's curvaceous and taut silhouette were making themselves more apparent. Janice's tight blouse turned out to be sleeveless and cut nearly as low in the back as it was in the front. It clung to her like Saran Wrap which was no small wonder since the tag at the collar in the back was flipped up so as to be sticking out of the neckline, displaying for all to see that her blouse was an XS. The blouse's thin material was giving up the textures and details of what lay beneath. First thing I noticed was the fairly visible roll hanging over the waistband of Janice's skirt. Her blazer had done a good job of hiding the excess that had been pushed up to her waist by the tight heavy paneled girdle that she had squeezed her, now known to be, flabby lower portions into. I again scrutinized her perfect form, displayed so ideally by the impossibly taut fabric of her sexy little skirt, and marveled at the effectiveness of that killer girdle she wearing. Clearly the bulging love handles told of a much more out of shape woman than the vision of perfection that was wrapped in that look-at-me skirt. The second thing I noticed was her boobs. Her tight blouse provided a very representative impression of the bra that was tightly strapped around her chest. Janice's problems with her figure's firmness were obviously not limited to her lower half, as her bra dug into her back, and shoulders. It was a demure sexy little confection with thin straps and a one hook design. She was clearly wearing it as tight as she could, with the straps shorted up to their limit which hiked the cups way up on her chest. Now with the jacket out of the way, those cups could be viewed in all their misshapenness. Each of Janice's breast was in itself two breast. The first breast was the small round fleshy mound visible at her open neckline, it's radius about the size of a orange, while the second occupied all the space forward, below, and to the outside of the orange and had a radius about the size of a large grapefruit. There was no way Janice was 'all natural'. The armpit side of her breasts, which could now be seen, gave it all away. There sitting on her chest was the clear outline of the under wires of Janice's bra, indicating where the cups of her bra started, but a half inch away further out on the cup itself, was another circular ridge which was faint but recognizable as the edge of Janice's  falsie. I was certain my suspicions were right about the authenticity of her envious chest. She obviously had some kind of rather large looking breast enhancers desperately clamped to her chest by that overworked 34 D plunge bra of hers.

"Oh it's worth a try. Where's the bathroom?" I said as if I didn't know.

Without saying a word Janice got her lovely figure in motion and walked passed me to the far end of the closet and opened the louvered door into a gorgeous marble private bath.  The tile floor resonating to life under the stimulus from her spiked heeled pumps. She went to the sink and turned on the water, grabbing a wash cloth from the basket of rolled up, well presented linens that graced the expensive and beautiful counter. She wet the towel and laid her jacket on the counter, and began to dab and rub it with the moisten towel, bending a fair bit about at the waist as she did. I stared at her perfect looking tush and noted the wet spot from where I had dumped the perfume on her and thought it could use a cleaning too. I grabbed a towel and wet it in the water that was still running from the faucet, and Janice did not seem to take any notice that I was preparing a wet towel, an action that should have concerned her considerably. The poor dear was so focused on getting that perfume out of her blazer. She performed a series of movements that included wiping, inspecting, reaching for the water, and repeating which did little remove the oil based perfume from her blazer but succeeded in getting her smallish clingy blouse to migrate up her back. The top edge of the waist band of her skirt was now in plain sight as well as just bit of her other, and more substantial waist band, the one that belonged to her denied to exist girdle. I positioned myself behind her took a deep breath, "here' goes" I thought o myself as I quickly slipped all four fingers of my left hand inside the waistband of Janice's skirt. It was a tight fit, but I forced them all in with enough  effort to make it snake-striking quick. I clasped the material tightly by closing my thumb down, while my equally quick right hand pressed the dampened towel to the darkened, perfume soaked area, and began to rub. Before I could complete one up-down scrubbing motion, I could feel the recoil in Janice as she bolted upright and tried to spin around to face me, her hands ceasing their mission to extract Jessica's haughty perfume from her suit and beginning their new mission to extract my hand from it instead. I held on tightly.

"What are you doing?!" Janice said with a wonderful combination of confusion and sock in her voice.
"You've got a big spot of that perfume on your…backside….Janice, I'm trying to get it out for you. Now turn around and hold still."

"I can do it myself." Janice said as she continued to squirm in my grasp, still trying to spin out of the hold and advantage I had on her. Her look was getting panicky. I laughed to myself as I let my inserted hand tug at her skirt while simultaneously holding her blouse in a position where it couldn't hide her, becoming evermore visible, girdle. She grabbed the bottom of her blouse and tried to tug it back down over her skirt, attempting to hide from my view what might be lying beneath, but with my hand lodged in her skirt she had little chance of getting the coverage she was after.

"Oh don't be silly, Janice. You have that Jacket to clean, and after all I do feel something….I mean somewhat responsible." I said as I continued to rub her derriere, noting the incredible tightness of her bum as I rubbed it. Her ass felt like a my boy's soccer ball when I pump up too much, it was hard as rock.

"Huh! No it's OK, I can get it." Janice said with more than just a hint of fear in her voice. She reached behind her and brushed my hand away and smoothed her hands over her tummy and hips, probing, feeling, unconsciously driven by her mind as it remembered the secret that lies beneath her red sheath.  Checking that all was there, and working, and still hidden.

"Oh!…Er….Ah…Well…your hand, was …in my …skirt." Janice sputtered in a panic, as my all too close for comfort probing of her be-skirted flanks continued.
With Janice fixated on the hand that was lodged in her skirt, I allowed my probing with the towel to move down her thigh until I felt the bulge through her skirt that marked where the lycra correction provided by her rather sturdy foundation ended. I kept wiping that spot, moving from firm toned smooth area of her upper thigh, encased in her stealthy worn girdle, to the soft bulgy region of her unaltered lower thigh, feeling over and over the cuff of her girdle and the sudden change in the firmness of her thigh as I did. I noted how close it was to the slit which I was pulling open with every movement across the taut fabric of her clingy skirt.

"Look, That's not…necessary…be careful!" Janice cooed.

"Be careful? Of what?” I said just a bit suspiciously as I knelt down so as to get eye level with Janice's perfect tush with my hand still planted firmly in her skirt. She had stopped wiping her blazer all together as her hands were now clamped to her blouse stretching it down over the top of her skirt, obviously fearful I might go for her waistband again and discover she was wearing a girdle.

"Of…my ….skirt, be careful you're tugging at it and…"

"I'm almost done." I said as I made one last wipe in the upward direction, subtly inserting my finger in to the slit of the tight red skirt, raising it as I did.

"Careful!" Janice wailed.

"Of whaaaaaaaaaa! Oh my God!" I gasped in astonishment as I stared at Janice's exposed thighs.

"Oh, You clumsy…What are you doing?!" Janice screamed.

"Hahaha, I'm sorry Janice I didn't mean to expose your…I mean…well, I was just surprised to see that…you know...Is that a…Are you wearing a girdle? " I gloated as I pretended to suppress my initial reaction.

"It's not what you think." Janice  began to protest.

"It's not? Because it looks an awful lot to me like you've got a girdle on under there!"

"I don't…er…wear a g-g-g-girdle! Do I look like I need to wear a girdle!" Janice exclaimed as she brushed my hands away from the hem of her skirt, and smoothed it down over her legs, once again hiding the secret of her shapeliness.

"Oh, now, now Janice, relax. It's no big deal that you need to wear a girdle. Secret's out honey you can fess up now."   I said in as condescending a voice as I could muster.

"I don't need it…one…It's NOT A GIRDLE!" Janice said as she ran her hands over her drum tight tummy, eventually sliding them over her hips and derriere as she felt for signs it was showing. She was desperately scanning her figure in the mirror, looking to see if there was some way to return to moments ago when the illusion of her perfect shape was unquestioned. She was dying of embarrassment, and I was loving it.

"Hahaha, well it sure looks like one." I said as I poked Janice with my index finger smack in the middle of one of her rock hard buttocks. "sure feels like one too."

"Stop laughing!  It's not funny!" Janice whined, and I reveled in her lack of composure as she realized that her hypocrisy was out in the open. I decided to keep piling on.

"I'm sorry Janice, it's just that…well after the good laugh we had at Ms. Jensen's expense, it is a little funny that your wearing one too." And again I broke into a little chuckle.

Janice tried to salvage her dignity by putting on her best sales girl face as she tried to confidently explain herself. "Well I don't normally wear one, I just needed a little help getting into this skirt this morning, that's all. I must be a little bloated because I wore it last week with no problem.

"So you are wearing one, aren't you?" I laughed playfully.

Janice took a quick short breath and again her hands shot quickly to her tummy to feel the tautness provided the triple paneling that held her bulge at bay. Her hands slid admiringly around her hips to her perfectly sculpted and lifted derriere. She wanted so desperately to keep it a secret but there was no denying it now. It was obvious she was upset with me for both discovering she wore a girdle and for making fun of her for it, but she knew she couldn't express that anger for fear of alienating me, and if me knowing was bad enough, me know and disliking her was worse.

 "Don't you dare go blabbing it around." She said with a muted anger in her voice.

"Blabbing? Who am I going to tell? Who would care?"

"Oh, I bet all those overweight house wives out there in mommy-ville would love to hear that  a beautiful career girl like me wears a girdle. I can hear their sniggers already." Janice said as she turned to the mirror and began to primp.  The sound of my choking and coughing was hard to suppress. It struck me that if she was trying to keep me from telling the mommies of the world the story of an overly vain, conceited real estate agent, she wasn't going about it the right way at all. Then she decided to retract her admission a little.

"Besides, it's not even a girdle, really. Not like those heavy paneled things that Rebecca's wears, if that's what you're thinking." She said defiantly. "It's very light, with barely any control at all. Really."  She added apprehensively.

"What ever you say Janice." I said with a wink as I patted her on her rock hard tush. Janice's lip stiffened and her eyes squinted into a slightly more aggravated stare as she watched me in the mirror. It was clear she was picking up my sarcasm loud and clear, and the vain beauty queen wasn't liking it at all, but I had her by the spandex and she knew the worst thing she could do at this point was to continue to discuss the exact details of anything to do with her girdle. And despite her best attempts to make me think other wise, I let her know that I knew exactly how insecure she felt about me knowing her secret.

"Don't worry Janice, your girdle will be our little secret."

I could actually notice her flinch as the implication that I understood her vanity all too well, hit her like a straight pin the buttock. The sales professional in her was kicking into overdrive and Janice knew when it was time to cut and run. She turned back to her blazer and looked at it in frustration. The perfume smell still wafted from its chic fabric and all that rinsing had done little to lessen its intensity.

"Oh this isn't working, what am I going to do?"

"Well we need to get that suit cleaned." I said, implying an obviousness that was undeniable.

"Shit. All right." She said in frustration. Time for phase three.

"Why don't you just slip out of that skirt, and I'll run it over to the cleaners for you. Along with this jacket." I said helpfully as I picked up the blazer off the counter.

"Well I'll need something to change into first. Wait here." Janice said as she marched back into the closet, attempting to leave me behind.

"What and miss the chance to shop in that closet? No, way. I'll help you look." I said excitedly.

"No that's quite all ri…." Too late I was already in the closet with her. She stared for few moments as I began rifling through the menagerie of designer frocks that lined the grandiose conduit that was Jessica's closet, but she eventually decided to stop protesting knowing she would kick me out when the actual disrobing would take place.  There wasn't any way she was going to let me see that girdle of hers. Of course she had know idea I had already seen a good portion of it and had a good feel for just how sturdy it was already.

"Oooo, this is perfect." I reached in and pulled a butter yellow suit off the rack. It would be every bit as demanding as the red number she was going to discard. Janice looked at it and raised an eye brow as if  she was interested. I peered inside and read the size tag. "Oh, I don't know. It's a 6." I said disappointedly, as if old lead bottom had no chance of squeezing her fat tush into a size six. "I'm not sure you can get your …curvy… hips into this little number Janice."

Janice tried to put o a confident face as she took the hangar and skirt from my hand and help it up to herself in the mirror. "That's perfect, I'm a size 6." She added proudly. A comment that flowed way to easily from her mouth considering my recent discovery. Did she think her denial about the sturdiness of her foundation was going to have me believe that she really was a size six? I just couldn't let her off that easily.

"Is that with or without your girdle?" I said with an exaggerated smirk as I looked skeptically at her curvaceous hips.
            Janice just couldn't hide the look of shame on her face. Nor could she hide the Pavlovian response of her hands as they again swept and felt their way over her drum flat tummy and around her perfect tush. In poker that's what was known as the tell, and Janice just kept giving herself away. It was fun watching her feel for her girdle so desperately. She was so dependant on it for that great confidence she flaunted shamelessly only moments ago, and now it was becoming a liability for her. She had the look on her face of someone who had just lost her best friend.
         
"Well… with, I suppose" she said flatly as if she were slightly deflated by my obvious rejection of her last attempt at trying to deny her girdle's benefits were anything other than substantial.

"Well, then you should have no problem getting into that skirt. Why don't you slip yours off while I go and get your blazer from the bathroom?" I said helpfully.

"OK, I'll call you when I'm ready." Janice said as she reached behind her and began to unzip her sexy red wrapper.
            I walked back into the bathroom at the far and of the closet closing the door over, but not quite all the way as I entered. I wanted to create a sense of privacy for the nervous Real estate agent as stripped off her outer protective layer.
Janice's red blazer was lying on the sink where she had left it. I walked noisily across the tile floor to sink, but I didn't retrieve the blazer right away, but opened the medicine chest above the sink and looked for the few items I would need to complete the undoing of Janice Markus. To no great surprise, everything I needed was there.
I slipped off my wooden sandals and crept slowly and quietly back towards the closet door. I pushed it ever so slightly and carefully until there was enough room to peek inside. I almost gasped! Standing right in front of the three way mirror was Janice in all her white lycra spandex glory. Even at the angle I was at the mirror gave a multi-angled view of the glamorous  stunner and of the girdle that kept her that way. White and very heavily paneled, Janice's girdle was nothing less than heaviest looking girdle I had ever seen. The texture of the nylon and lycra was so course and heavy that it gave the extra sturdy foundation the look of  canvas, except for the many satin panels stitched about her tummy, waist,  and derriere. One of the panels swept down from her hips and under her tush like a giant chin strap from a athletic helmet.  It served to both hold in Janice's saddle bags and lift her sagging butt, all at the same time. "So it's very light, with barely any control at all, eh Janice?" I thought to myself as I looked on. Janice bent over, and lifted one leg to step into Jessica's skirt and her cast iron girdle resisted every move with determination as the satin panels strained across her tush and the waist band cut into her bulging mid section, as did the cuffs of its legs cut into her jiggling thighs. She stepped with her other leg into the expensive yellow sheath and began to ease it up carefully with both hands. The material was filling fast as it ascended Janice's thighs, and as it did the progress slowed to a crawl. The skirt came to a abrupt stop with the waist band a few inches below where it needed too be, which should have been at least at the waist band of that girdle of hers. The problem was the zipper. It was lodged right under Janice's tush and marked the end of where the skirt could expand any further. Above that the skirt had simply splayed open to expand around the expanse of Janice's lycra encased hips, but now the jig seemed to be up, as it were, and the poor little skirt had no more to give the optimistic glamazon. Janice reached behind her for the zip and tried to pull it up, but it was spread open too wide to be moved upward. She reached with both hands to the material on either side of the open waist band and pulled them together with a bit of success, but as she tried to reach for zipper, they simply spread apart again, foiling her efforts to close the sexy yellow designer packaging. I watched as she made several frustrated attempts trying to hold the skirt closed with one of her perfectly manicured hands, and raise the reluctant zipper with the other. But to no avail. It was clear she need help.
I moved quickly back to the sink and slipped back into my sandals. Picking up her blazer I walked back to the door, this time noisily, and pulled it open. "Janice I have…..Oh"
Janice spun and stared at me with both hands behind her back still fumbling with the zipper. The skirt hadn't made sufficient progress up her hips yet either to hide the top few inches of her girdle. As my eyes looked at it in a wide stare, Janice reached one hand back around to the front and tried to pull her short-ish blouse down to cover the exposed upper portion of her tummy panels. "Oh...I …Um…I'm not quite…dressed…" Janice stammered as I strode closer through the open closet door.

"Janice do you need some help?" I asked with some mercy in my voice.

"Well…Er…yeah. If you could just Zip me up." Janice said grabbing the waist band and pulling it up and together in the back so as to cover as much of her underpinnings as possible.

"Sure, just let me gather up these things for you." I said as I picked up her discarded red skirt from floor and draped it over my arm along with her jacket. Janice stood holding onto the skirt, desperately clamping it as closed as she could while I proceeded to place her jacket on the dressing table. I focused my attention on her little red skirt. I began to fold it, but then peered inside and noticed that it had been altered; all the seams had been let out indicating that Janice was closer to a size 8 than a true size 6. No wonder she was having trouble slipping into Jessica's skirt. I smirked and placed the folded skirt on top of her jacket and moved behind the still nervous and twitchy real estate goddess.
            I grabbed hold of the zipper and began to apply upward pressure. For her part Janice was sucking in with all she had and desperately pulling the skirt closer with all the force her perfectly polished and manicured fingers could apply. From up close her inverted fingers told the real story behind her beautiful manicure. They were all fake. Janice's long claws were, of course, acrylic nail tips, and the view from underneath gave a perfect view of her real nails, short, discolored and broken as they were. But it was time to get back to that girdle of hers, which was now, despite her best attempts to prevent it, staring me right in the face through the lengthy and still open zippered seam of the skirt she was so desperate to cram herself into.

"I don't understand it." I said curiously. "Are you sure you're a size six, Janice?"
"Of course I am, I can show you mine if you like. I guess some designers use different standards." Janice said as a weak offering for the trouble she was having, but I of curse new the real reason.

"Well, maybe this one hasn't been let out, like yours has." I said as I watched Janice's reaction in the multi facetted mirror. She took a sharp deep breath indicated she was shocked that yet another of her secrets was out.
"Maybe you're more like a six and a half, Janice" I added.

"Well, I…I …Er…I don't think so." Janice continued to be off balance and out of composure.

"Or maybe you need a firmer girdle than the light one you've got on." I said as I again watched her face for a reaction. This time her eyes popped open just a but wider and her breathing got a little deeper. I could see the wheels spinning in her head as that lie of hers was now going to come back to haunt her. Why had she tried to deny it was a real girdle, now she'll might have to suffer though the discovery all over again. I turned my attention back to her girdle.

"Actually, Janice, this girdle of yours doesn't look that light." I said as I slowly moved my fingers to the tight shiny waist band. There was a small portion right in the center of her back where her girdle actually didn't touch her, but spanned the gap created by the two halves of her bulging rolls in either side. I slipped my index finger in and pinched it with my thumb.

"What?" Janice said as if stalling for something to say in her defense. "It's, well, it's…er…Gasp!" Her stammering came to an abrupt halt as she undoubtedly felt my hand inside her waist band, beginning to stretch her girdle.

"My, this is actually quite firm, Janice." I said fighting back the laugher. "I mean I don't think they make them any firmer than this, do they?" I looked at Janice just as all the air in her lungs was expelled in a single breath, and her shoulders slumped in defeat, but it was the look on her face that was priceless. Her bottom lip sank away from the top as her mouth fell open as if she were going to speak but failed to make a sound, and the long curled black eye lashes that adorned her overly shadowed upper lids,  slowly settled on the their lower counterparts, as Janice closed her eyes, and a small whimper came from somewhere deep inside her. She deserved that, I thought to myself, and I didn't feel sorry for her at all.
Nor did I feel sorry for my next little bit of sabotage wear the glamorous looks of this vain condescending glamour puss were concerned. Janice's beautiful shiny hair draped and spread beautifully across the back of her shoulders, but if I knew what I was doing, that would change shortly. I reached my free hand into my pocket for the things I had assembled in the bathroom earlier and now carefully held in my right fingers. I moved slowly, raising the small bent sewing needle toward the neckline of Janice's blouse and the tag that stuck up, it’s folded over construction making a perfect loop, and slipped the needle through it. I then passed the needle carefully back through the loop on the end of the thread so the needle was now tied to Janice's too tight blouse via the flipped up tag. I then very carefully raised the bent needle which thanks to a little effort in the bathroom previously, resembled a fishing hook, and gently placed it into Janice's crowning silken locks, right at the part in the back. The needle sank down into the shiny black tresses and secured itself without so much as a flinch from old lead bottom.
            Then I felt the waist band pull tight again as Janice took a deep breath and opened her eyes and stammered out another attempt at an explanation as to the truth about her girdle. She hadn't felt a thing with respect to my invasion of her hair.  Big surprise.

"Well, It's…just…a…a…regular girdle, I guess." Janice said pitifully.

"Look don't worry honey, the secrets out with me, anyway.  I know you're worried about someone finding out you wear one of those, and I already promised I wont tell anyone, so don't worry about me telling anyone how heavy duty it is. OK?"

"I…Well…Thanks." Janice said. "Can you get zip me up now? Please!"

"Oh sure. Deep breath now. Suck it in good." I said as I made a true effort to close the new skirt around Janice's, now admitted to be sturdily girdled, hips. The zip moved up slowly but steadily, and after it reached the top, I hooked the waist band closed.
            Janice tugged and pulled at the skirt a few times and then smoothed her hands down over her restored lower half, as she stared at herself in the mirror from every angle. She looked great, not withstanding how she achieved it. The new skirt clung to her like a second skin and showed off her artificially created curves in spectacular sexy business suit fashion.

"Oh Janice that looks fabulous. But that blouse of yours wont do at all." I said emphatically.

"No, I suppose your right." Janice said as she eyed the way the bright pink top clashed with the subtle yellow skirt. I of course was already busy choosing the perfect blouse to display those strap on breasts of hers, and found it a low cut ivory satin sleeveless top. I pulled it out and handed it to her.

"Oh, this is perfect." I said excitedly, and as far as I was concerned it was perfect. Hehehe.

"Oh, this is nice." Janice said, then looked with a note of caution at the plunging neck line. I decided to call her bluff.

"Oh, but be careful. That low cut top isn't for women with a lot of padding. Hahaha." I said as I put my arm around and Janice and hugged her like a friend. Janice laughed as if she knew I were joking about Jessica.

"Yeah, well that's one thing I don't have to worry about." She said confidently.

"Ok, I'll just grab these things and wait out in the bedroom then." I said comfortingly. I then strolled out into the bed room half closing the door as I'd done before, and waited. It didn't take long.

"Aaaaaaaah! Oh! Shit!" Janice wailed from the closet. I of course came running to the rescue. As I burst in the closet, I got my first look at the real Janice Markus. She was bent over a the waist, in her skirt and pink satin bra,  fumbling desperately with her inside-out blouse. But there was something very different about the glamorous real estate agent. My suspicions about whether that black mane was growing out of her head or not were answered by one look at the brown nylon stocking pinned to the upswept wisps of salt and pepper gray hair that emanated from Janice's scalp. So it was a wig alright, and now that wig was mercilessly tangled in the extra small blouse she had pulled over her head.

"Wait! Don't come in!" Janice screamed.

"Oh my God! Janice! What happened?!" I said as sympathetically as I could.
            Janice spun, still hunched over to hide her naked head as she desperately tried to extract her mane from the stretchy clingy blouse. Her soft middle bulging over the exposed waistband of her wheezing girdle. As she did I laughed again at the sight of her killer girdle sticking up out of the back of her too small skirt. I moved up next to her and patted her on the back.

"Oh, you've lost your wig! I'm so sorry Janice. This must be so embarrassing for you."
Janice of course was too shocked to speak. As I comforted her, it took only a second to deftly squeeze and unhook her Victoria's secret special. The elasticized silken straps raced across her back with fervent purpose as they disappeared under her arm pits. So wrapped up in her panic over her wig, Janice seemed completely unaware of the loosening about her improbable bust.
Of course I knew there was no way she was going to separate that wig from her blouse because they were sewed together, a fact I didn't necessarily want her to discover. But I stood for second and took it all in, reveling in her shame and embarrassment at being discovered to have so brashly flaunted and denied  her own hypocrisy.
I moved around in front of her and reached for her tangled tresses, much to her dismay, and she wouldn’t let go.
"Janice, here let me help you." I said.
"No…no…Oh…God….my…please don't look. I…" Janice sputtered as she held on for dear life.
"Oh my gosh!…Janice! Your…Your! Look!" I said as I stared past the impossibly tangled wig and blouse assembly to Janice's chest.
            As the diva reached out to hold on to her wig, the ever present forces of gravity kept on doing what they do best and pulled Janice's loosened bra down her arms until the straps came to rest at her elbows. With the cups of her sexy satin bra no longer clamped to her chest, Janice's now exposed and suddenly less formidable breasts came into clear view. I love being right all the time. Janice's impressive D-cup brassiere seemed entirely unnecessary to entrap the somewhat deflated looking B-cup sized breast that hung from her chest with a fatigue that was more fitting her true age than what the pouting pushed up bounty that preceded it would have led any admires to believe. The cups of her sexy pink confection were maintaining their bountiful illusion however, still supporting something inside. Falsies!
            Janice looked down and froze, saying nothing but simply letting out a giant "Gasp!" If the look on her face didn't represent complete shock already, than the new white color that was rapidly replacing the red look of embarrassment surely was. Her paralyzed hands lost their grip on her wig and I took control of it, rapidly feeling for the tag, and the tread that held it to the blouse, snapping it and separating the two, making sure not to take my eyes off her for second. I was enjoying this way too much, so much so that I could no longer contain the laughter that had been building inside me. I burst out laughing as I surveyed the disassembled Janice Markus in her tightly pinned down hair net, with  those ridiculous falsies dangling from her elbows in that sexy satin bra.
Janice moved quickly to cross her arms and try to re-secure her falsely assembled bust line, but this was not standard operating procedure for old Janice. She was used to dealing with her falsies only when her bra was securely fastened, and that certainly wasn't the case here. Her large falsies were quite heavy and smooth as were the satin cups of her Victoria's Secret push up brassiere. As her fore-arms pressed against the satin cups of her unsecured and quite standoffish bra, the pressure they applied to the pert nippled silicone breast enhancers that rested inside was enough to jostle the large slippery orbs over the satin covered under wires, that had up until moments ago acted as a vacuum tight seal. They had escaped.
            Janice's exceedingly large silicone breast enhancers hit the floor with a squishy thud. They bounced in two different directions with one moving toward me, coming to rest at my feet, and the other bouncing between Janice's legs and ending up behind her.

"Ah!!!…" Janice simply screamed, there was no other way to describe it. She screamed like a cheerleader in a horror film that just found her boyfriend with knife in his forehead.  She stared momentarily at them, frozen, completely petrified, at the sight of her giant falsies lying on the floor, in plain sight, in front of me. Her arms were crossed about her chest as if trying to hide the truth about her natural bust size, but the pink, jiggly, molded, falsies strewn about her feet negated the need for a look at her chest at all. Slowly her emotionally overwhelmed mind worked this out and she came to the realization that a different plan needed to be enacted.

            For my part I simply laughed. Long hard and deep. It was the laugh to put all other laughs to shame. I laughed so hard I made no sound, for all the air had been expelled from my lungs by the time I "Ha"-ed the second of the series of "Ha"s the erupted from me.  It was all I could do to keep my eyes open through the smile that reach past ear to ear and surely met somewhere some where near the back of my head.
         
            "Look out!" Janice barked as she bent down and reached for the smooth pink fleshy orbs on the floor about her feet, that she could never have imagined would be displayed by anything other than the silhouette of a tight blouse or the shiny satin cups of her tightly secured brassiere.

" I don't understand…How…? My…my...bra..." Janice's confused thoughts slipped from her crimson lips almost unconsciously.

"Good heavens, Janice…You're falling apart."

"Get out. Just get out, and leave me alone!" Janice sobbed.

"Now… now Janice, what's done is done, and there's no use crying over spilled milk. You've got to pull yourself together, literally. Remember Jessica will returning in a few hours and, well, you certainly don't want to her seeing you like this."
            I began to straighten and fluff Janice's gorgeous black wig, holding it up on one raised hand as if it were perched upon the foam head that undoubtedly resided on Janice's vanity table. To me it felt like a trophy, as if it were the prize for a winning an epoch battle. I had taken on this stuck up glamour queen, on her own turf, and come out victorious; I had the scalp to prove it.  I savored the moment, secretly admiring my trophy while I neatened it up. I grabbed a brush from Jessica's dresser and began to comb Janice's wig back to it's perfect Onyx luster. Janice was standing there looking like quite the comical sight. Her mascara was running a little from the few tears that had welled in her eyes. Who could blame her, after the traumatizing experience of having her wig and falsie wearing so suddenly and unexpectedly revealed in front of a complete stranger. She looked nearly bald with that tan nylon wig cap tightly compressing and almost completely covering what hair of her own she had. She had no chance of making it through an airport metal detector with all the bobby pins she had festooned around the band of that cap, holding it securely to her mostly gray hair. It was quite apparent that Janice had given up on her own hair some time ago and had become completely dependant upon wearing wigs, because her hair had no signs of being dyed. With the amount of gray that Janice had, it would have been impossible to keep her gray roots from showing though such a black dye job. It was a kind of testament to the colossal proportions of her vanity, that she would rather wear a wig than have anyone detect her gray roots, and so committed was she to keeping her gray hair a secret, that she couldn't chance ever being seen without her wig. After she started wearing that luxurious mound  of tresses atop her pate and pretending it was hers, she couldn't let anyone see her real hair, no matter how dyed and prepared, it would never measure up. So after a while she stops fussing with her own hair all together in lieu of her glamorous, perfect, gorgeous, expensive wig. Of course the only drawback to such a well conceived plan was the chance that her wig might be discovered. I guess she had confidence that she looked like someone who's hair could be that gorgeous, and besides she could always just lie. After all who could know for sure except her? That confidence was wishful thinking on her part, and she never expected to run into someone like me.
            Janice continued to fumble with her bra and falsies. What a sight! With her back to me she desperately tried to re-fasten her bra, but the huge giggly falsies in her hands made it impossible to do anything. They were simply taking up too much space in her palms to leave enough of her perfectly manicured fingers left to perform such a demandingly dexterous task. Those fake nipples just, absolutely put the exclamation point on it for sure. I mean, bad enough she wedges those gelatinous blobs into her sexy brassier for the purpose of making her breasts look bigger, but to actually employ those fake nippled blobs in order to head of any question of whether she pads or not, is a level vanity and falsehood I didn't think any woman would actually attempt. How the more stupid they look now that the truth is out, as their extra detail designed to fool the eye gives extra clarity to just how phony Janice is, and to what lengths she'll go to perpetrate the fraud that is her beautiful image.

"Here Janice, let me help you with that. Gosh you'll never get that bra clasped while you're holding those…..falsies of yours." I said with all the empathy I could muster through the hauling laughter that was trying to erupt from me again. I loved saying it.

"Oh… God this is so embarrassing." Janice capitulated.
            She stopped fiddling with her bra clasp and moved her hands around in front of her, readying her falsies for re-insertion. I was still holding her wig and needed to set it down if I was going to hook that bra of hers back together. Maybe a little exchange was in order.

"You know what Janice, first things first. Why don't you take your wig and put it back on, then we'll put your bust line back together."  I held Janice's restored, shimmering locks, back in front of her and she did something that surprised me. She put both of her breast enhancers in her right hand, but her newly freed left hand didn't grab right for the wig as I expected, but instead felt around her head. The wig in my hand was a less powerful image in Janice's mind than the image of her with out. It was if she had forgotten her wig had come off, and her hand was trying to confirm that it was missing or trying to hide the naked truth.

"Oh, my hair…yeah..thank…you." Janice murmured as she finally reached for her stunning black wig with her free hand.

"Oh Janice give me those things will you?" I said as I reached for, what looked like 2 Lbs of raw chicken breast in her right hand. Without much hesitation Janice Markus handed me her breasts, and quickly began the process of putting her wig back on. She moved in front of the mirror and gazed into it as she tugged and smoothed and stuffed her hands up inside it, then tugged some more, getting it just perfect, as it had been before.
            I squeezed her breasts. Not her real breasts of course, but her false ones, which were, due to the bizarre events that I was completely responsible for setting in motion, in each of my two hands. They were just plain fucking ridiculous. There was no other way to say it. To think a grown woman would strap these things onto her chest just to get people to gawk at her was almost beyond belief. It wasn't like Janice had no breasts of her own, or was trying to conceal some grotesque deformity.  Quite the contrary, hers were perfectly adequate B cups, and despite a little more sag, than they no doubt had in their prime, they were quite enviable at her age. It was just plain vanity and that drove her to such precarious lengths. It must be quite an adrenaline rush for old Janice to be admired by others, and these falsies of hers certainly brought heaps of wanted, admiring stares. To think that I could have cooked up a scheme to get them out of their hiding spot and into my hands was nothing less than a miracle, and was exceedingly pleased with myself for getting the job done.
            I held her plastic boobs at arms length with my finger tips and gave them a giggle. They wobbled like real breasts I guess. In fact they looked real enough to fool anyone except that Janice had tried to wear them way too big. Her natural, much smaller, breasts just couldn't measure up to the task of pretending to be D-cups no matter how sophisticated a pair of falsies Janice tried to augment them with. She was simply reaching too far. Foolish vain woman.
"Oh Janice that looks perfect! You know that wig really turns back the clock. You look so much younger with it on then you do…you know." Janice's lip stiffened but she was in no position to argue.
"I can see why you wear it. That gray must be impossible keep covered with such a dark choice of hair coloring. Your wig must be so much easier."
"Well…It…I…er…" Janice hesitated to say anything.
"And it's so much fuller and thicker and glossier, you know, so much more luxurious than your own hair." That was good one, I thought to myself. Janice face fell back a few steps toward that look of defeat that possessed it before she crawled back under her wig for shelter.
"Ok, lets get the rest of you reassembled shall we. Here you take your falsies and I'll help with that troublesome brassiere hook of yours."
            I handed Janice back her giant breast forms. The look on her face couldn't be more satisfying as she tried to fight back the feeling of embarrassment as she took possession of her tits.
"You know this one hook bra may not be the best choice if your going to wear such large falsies Janice. You're lucky it decided to fail here in the privacy of Jessica's closet instead of …What was it?…at a Gala, reaching for some caviar? Ha ha."
Janice shuddered at the thought. "I don't understand it, I've never had a problem with it before. Please…I hope this will stay between me and you. I mean my image is very important to my work…you understand, don't you?"
"Now, now Janice, I've told you already don't give it a thought. I have absolutely no reason to tell anyone about your…Tricks of the trade…shall we say."
Janice slipped her falsies into the satin cups of her plunge bra and pressed them against her chest as she waited for me to hook her bra back together. I grabbed the two ends of her bra strap and pulled them together across her naked back stretching them to their seemingly elastic limit as they finally reached each other and I clasped them together.
"Gosh, this bra is a stretch, Janice. Are you sure it's the right size?" I asked inquisitively.
"Oh…yeah…it fine." Janice said  innocently, as I moved around the front of her to watch her make the critical adjustments. One by one she reached into each of the now full and tightly straining cups of her sexy, satin plunge bra and pulled her own breasts up and in as she wedged her falsies up underneath them, pressing them together and forming her bountiful, voluptuous cleavage. It's no wonder she wore her bra so tight.
"Oh, I see. You need it that tight to hold your falsies in place. Gosh they look so real Janice. I mean I'm looking at you in just your bra and you really can't tell they're falsies. That's amazing."
Of course I was lying. The thin satin material of Janice's plunge bra did nothing to camouflage the outline of her falsies as it stretched over them like plastic wrap. The bra's shimmering satin luster exaggerated even the slightest discontinuity in the smooth curved surface of it's cups, and Janice's oversized falsies created more than just 'slight' discontinuities. Also clearly visible again, was the way the inner edges of her cups didn't touch her breasts. That gap created a strong visual image of a bra that was disconnected from the pushed up breasts that resided behind it. Unlike when she was wrapped in her tight pink blouse, it was now obvious from just looking at her, that not a bit of her actual breast touched any part of those sexy satin cups of her bra, but instead they were completely contained, pushed up, and cupped inside the slightly concave back side of her breast enhancers. Her own B-cup breasts simply couldn't be squashed wide enough to fill out the width behind those D-cup falsies. So the falsies were over hanging Janice's breast, spreading the bra's cups out to their D-cup radius, and creating that very obvious gap, which incidentally was visible along the outside edge of both breasts as well.
            The neckline of Janice's original pink blouse, was scooped enough to show the top half of her pushed up cleavage, but it’s rather straight across cut didn't reveal her bra at all unless you happen to get just the right angle to see down her neckline. I had remedied that with the ivory satin blouse I had selected, especially for her, from Jessica's collection. It's deep V neckline was going to display Janice's sexy plunge bra right down to its under wire. Janice just glanced over at me like she wished I'd be quiet, but there was no chance of that.
"But I must say I don't see why you need to go to such measures. Does being glamorous really help you sell more houses Janice?"
"Listen honey, sex sells." Janice said assuredly as she continued to stuff, tug and adjust her shiny bra and falsie assemblage. "My tits have made me fortune."
"Your tits?" I said jokingly.  "Who makes those again?" I watched as Janice's nostrils flared, and her lip stiffened. I kept going. "Fredrick's? Maybe you should give him the credit. Ha ha ha…and a percent of the profits. Hehehehe."
Janice chose to ignore me and picked up the blouse I had cleverly chosen, and put it on. She slowly lower it over her hair so as not mess up is new restored set.
"Ooo, careful of your wig, Janice."
Janice managed to slip the blouse over her hair without any mishaps, and pulled the blouse down over her bountiful bust line. It was tight fit. She smoothed it down and I was happy to see that the top was a bit shorter than the one she had had on previously, so there wasn't very much overlap with the top of her tight yellow skirt. She stared into the full length mirror and I could see the inner smile on her face. Janice liked what she saw, and with good reason. She looked positively fabulous. The way the satin top reflected the light added to the exaggerated look of curvaceousness about her dramatic D cup breasts was truly spectacular.  She turned sideways and studied the silhouette of her bust line in the mirror. The inner smile became an outward one as her image in the mirror vanquished the feelings of  insecurity and embarrassment that had paralyzed her moments ago. True to her shallowness, it only took one look at the restored outside, to rebuild the whole inside. I wasn't going to let it be too easy to forget.

"Janice that blouse is perfect." I said as I watched her smile become a little more assured in mirror. I noted with satisfaction that when viewed from the side, the plunging neckline allowed a good view Janice's bra. I could see the cup and the gap between it and her desperately pushed up breast. Her falsies weren't going to stay a secret for long if she spent any time around someone while wearing that blouse. I think my smile was even more satisfied a smile than Janice's.
I then looked at the love handles bulging over the waistband of the skirt, which the clingy satin top showed with shimmering clarity. I slid my sand across the small of her back and pinched a bit of her excess that had managed to escape the heavy panels of her girdle. "But it's so fitted that it shows off your bulge around the middle."  In the mirror I could see Janice's eye focus their attention on her protruding love handles, as her lower lip fell away from its crimson upper partner in shock.
"That girdle of yours is so tight, it's creating quite a roll over the top." I said as I bit my lip to keep from smirking. "Honestly Janice, This girdle of yours has to be the sturdiest I've ever seen. I didn't know they made them that firm."
"No it's not!" Janice blurted out in huff. "You saw how heavily paneled Jessica's was. Mine isn't nearly that bad." Janice smoothed her hands over her perfectly shaped hips and drum flat tummy assuredly, before examining the soft overhang that I had described.
"You know, Janice, That you might want to consider wearing an All-in-one, you know a body briefer? It would really help with this mid-drift bulge problem you've created with that tight girdle of yours." I said.
"I don't need an all-in-one!" Janice protested. "There's nothing wrong with my waistline."
"Well if you insist, but it would also help with those falsies you wear. I mean look at the mishap you had with that petite bra you're wearing? That isn't a very secure way of holding your falsies in place, is it? I mean it might work for some gals who don't wear so much padding, but those oversized falsies of your would be a lot more secure in a good all-in-one. You know then you wont have to be afraid of  slippage, or a clasp malfunction, like that last one."
"Thanks so much for your advice." Janice said nastily. "But I've never had any trouble before today, and besides have you ever tried to use the ladies room while wearing an all-in-one?"
"No I can't say that I have Janice, but I should have guessed that you'd be an expert."
"And just to get the record straight, my…gir…shape wear is light control." Janice added feeling safe once again inside the confides of a designer wrapper. I of course was not going to let her hang onto one single lie.
I lifted up the blouse in the back and exposed the white lycra waistband of her girdle once more. I slipped my index finger in and began to feel the texture as I tugged on it lightly. It was thick due to the many elastic layers that made up the various panels that shaped her hips, tummy, and waist, all coming together at the waistband. The outer layer of Spandex had a high shine to it, which made it unmistakably synthetic looking.
"Hey! Stop that." Janice protested as she squirmed, arching her back at the feeling of my intrusion.
"I think this has every bit as much shaping and control as Jessica's. What kind is it again?"
Janice turned sideways and looked at herself in the mirror. She placed her hands on her bum, and squeezed it as if to check how hard the girdle was actually making her undoubtedly soft derriere. "It's a…uh…it's…not….that…I…"
I continued to slip my fingers down the heavily stitched back seam of her girdle until I found the tag. The long, thin, nylon label was attached at the waistband which I rolled out in order to flip the label out of her girdle and to where I could read it.
"Flexees Suddenly-Slim Extra Firm M."
"Gasp! Leave that…alone." Janice sputtered as she smacked my hand away and stuffed the incriminating tag back down inside the lycra force field. "I can't believe you did that! How dare you? It's bad enough you know I wear one, was it necessary for you to check…." Janice's rant came to a screeching stop.
"That it was extra firm? Sorry Janice, but I couldn't resist. Besides, look at you, you look fabulous. Can you blame a girl for wanting to know the secret behind those curves?  Although I must say you can stop pretending that Jessica's girdles provide more control than yours. It's quite obvious that that this girdle of yours is simply the most shaping a woman can buy. Gosh you must be dying in there." I added with a chuckle.
Janice smoothed her hands over her flat stomach as she examined it in the mirror, yet again, and said, "It's worth it!"
"Just as long as you can keep it all hidden in that nice designer wrapper." I said as I studied Janice's restored appearance. She was right, with her props back in place, difference was dramatic, she was a head turner.
            "Oh look at the time, I'd better run these things over to the dry cleaner right now, if you're to have any chance of changing out of Jessica's clothes before she gets back." I said helpfully.
            Janice looked at her watch and then at me pensively. I could see the trepidation in her face. The thought of having to count on me to save her tush was weighing heavy on that already overloaded head of hers. Could she really trust me? After all I was having a fairly good time laughing at the discovery that so much her beautiful appearance was phony. But on the other hand, that cat had already gotten out of the bag, and there was no putting it back. She was hoping she could trust me to keep it all secret, and maybe showing a little a faith in me would help to cement that trust, as if she could win me over by allowing me to be her friend. It was like sucking up to the post popular girl in school all over again, and it was pretty clear that Janice thought of herself as that girl.
            It was amazing how fast she was rebounding now that all of her fake parts we re-installed. Janice turned on her full sales girl charm.  "Would you really run it over? Oh you’re a doll." She said to me with snow job generator turned up to full.
            "Oh sure, I feel so bad about spilling that perfume on you, it's the least I can do."
            Janice continued to primp in the mirror as I gathered up her things. When she was ready we both walked out of the closet together and proceeded down stairs with Janice in the lead. It was hard to keep from laughing. The new skirt of Jessica's I had selected, with its tighter fit, and lighter color,  was displaying Janice's girdle lines much more clearly than even her own skirt had been doing. And as an added bonus, the slit in the back was higher, several inches higher, so that she was flashing that Lycra wonder of hers from behind with each step she took, as the slit fanned open revealing a good portion of her upper thigh. Simply hysterical. But the best part was that low cut top, which was now making it easy to see that overstuffed bra of hers from all angles, which looked every bit as stuffed as it was. She was literally exposed with her close on, and I had the vain beauty queen convinced she looked great. After a long afternoon of showing the house to clients, and eventually the lady of the house, looking like that, her secrets would be out. All I needed to do now was make sure this suit of hers never made it make from the cleaners and my work here was done. I felt like a million bucks.
            "OK Janice" I said As I headed for the front door, "I'll be back in about an hour."
            "That's going to be close. Please hurry,  I don't want Jessica to see me in her suit."
            "I sure wouldn't if I were you." I said with straight face, as I suppressed any hint of sarcasm, and all the laughter that was erupting inside me. It was then I got another idea.
            "Hey Janice, what do you want me to do about the perfume?"
            "Hmmm?" Janice said confused.
            "The one I spilled all over you, remember? She'll see it. Shouldn't you replace it?"
            "Oh God, that's right, I almost forgot. Good thinking Mary." Janice said as the wheels turned excitedly in her head.
            "I'll pick one up for you while I'm out."
            "Oh that would be perfect! Thanks ever so much."
            Not so fast. This was going to be good.
            "Sure, just give me your card and I'll put it on that." I said smoothly.
            "My card?" Janice hesitated as if she didn't understand at first.
            "Your credit card." I said assuredly. "I don't think they're going to charge it to your business card Janice. No matter good your reputation is." I continued with a chuckle.
            "Oh." Janice took a short pause as she thought about it. "Yeah, that fine, just put it on my card, hold on I'll get it."
            Janice walked back through the large foyer to the sitting room where her computer was and bent down to retrieve her pocket book. As I had hoped the short blouse I had picked out for her was paying dividends on the in more places than the revealing neck line. Janice's killer girdle became visible over the skirts waist band again, as the short blouse retreated up her back as she bent over. She had better hope none of the perspective buyers ask her to open any of the lower cabinets or drawers around the house, because her secret will be out shortly after she does.  I am so very devilishly clever.
            She straightened up and handed me the card. "Please hurry, this will be all in vain if she catches me."
            "My thoughts exactly." I said. Could she see me biting my lip?
            I hurried out the door and down the long driveway, holding the diva's suit and fortunes in my hands. I took a deep satisfied breath. There was still much more fun to be had.

            The End.

NEXT: PART 2

            The Lady of The House