Brian had to get home before his wife returned, and Penelope headed off to her apartment, striding across the MORE4LESS parking lot, swinging her groceries in one hand and feeling heady from her exhilarating day. The dusk air was rapidly cooling and she could feel it in short gusts wafting under her mini skirt and tickling her still stimulated pussy left uncovered by even a wisp of a pair of panties - not even the tiniest suggestion of a thong that Morristown's 'Lascivious Lingerie' had sold her.

It had been some day - the culmination of months of erotic dreams and detailed planning, and she eagerly looked forward to the following weekend when Brian would come over with a CD of the best shots from their photo shoot - the indoor beginning with her stripping down to a wide variety of lingerie items; the love making and then the outdoor al fresco shoot, as well as some of the funnier ones in the market. She knew there should be some very erotic pictures amongst the hundreds of shots he had taken.

A shout from behind her jarred her thoughts back to the present. She looked over her shoulder and saw a young woman running towards her.

"Miss Perkins! I'm glad I caught you!"

It was one of the checkers at the market. Penny knew her quite well. She recognized her at once in spite of the fact that she seldom saw her dressed. Her name was Phoebe something and she came to the YWCA every morning before her shift at the market. Usually she was stark naked, changing or showering at the Y where Penny worked as an assistant manager. Part of Penny's job was to make regular walk-throughs of all the rooms at the facility - the gym, the indoor pool, the Jacuzzi, the yoga studio as well as the showers and change rooms. There were always women in various stages of undress in there, but somehow Phoebe always seemed to be completely naked when Penny came through, and more often than not she was bending over, giving her a clear view of her firm little backside, her tight little anus and the neat folds of her hairless pink pussy mounted atop her slender, tapered, long and elegant legs. She would always turn around quickly when she heard Penny's loud high heels clicking on the tile floor, and grasping her jiggling tits, greet her warmly and sweetly.

Penny had never had any lesbian leanings of any kind, but this young woman she found utterly compelling, and whenever she knew she was in the building, made her rounds far more often than necessary in the hopes of catching a glimpse of her natural charms. She was careful not to be caught staring at the girl's gorgeous figure, but she worked hard on her peripheral vision while she looked her in the eye and responded to her, welcoming her to the Y.

"Miss Perkins, sorry to trouble you, but Mr. Brown asked if you'd have a word with him in his office."

"Mr. Brown?"

"My manager. You know, the big black man in the white shirt and tie? It’s something to do with your credit card?"

"I don’t think I know him, Phoebe. He wants to see me now?"

"Yes, if you can. He said it was important."

Penny was not pleased to have her mood interrupted. The replaying of the day's events in her head was a delicious reprise, specially the fun they had with the fruit and vegetables strategically placed in suggestive poses. Flashing her pussy in the house ware aisle and being photographed in risky situations with other shoppers nearby had been a thrill. But she willingly walked back across the parking lot, following the attractive, lanky blonde who chatted animatedly while Penny allowed herself to stare at her lithe figure.

"I'll show you where his office is, Miss Perkins."

"Thanks, Phoebe," Penny replied, now worried about whether she had paid her last credit card statement. "I'll follow you."

Phoebe led her to the back of the store, through a plastic curtain to a circular metal staircase. Climbing up the almost vertical steps, the older woman's nose was close to Phoebe's thighs and she drank in the young woman's personal aroma - a sweet mixture of soap and sweat and young skin.

A timid knock on the door, a rough "Come!" and they entered Mr. Brown's office. It had windows all along one side with a clear view down onto the store. On the other side were shelves with ledgers and stacks of loose papers. One end of the room featured a low, tattered old couch, and at the other end was a large swivel lamp that shone a bright light down on Mr. Brown's desk. And there he was - Mr. Brown - a man who matched his desk - large and brown. He scowled.

"Thank you, Phoebe, you may go."

"Thank you, Mr. Brown," she replied and fled the room, pulling shut the door behind her, making the key fall out onto the floor.

Mr. Brown stood up and walked over, picked up the key, put it back in its place and locked the door.

"Take a seat, Miss Perkins."

Penny backed up to the couch and sat down, miscalculating the low level of the seat so her mini skirt flew up as she landed. She quickly adjusted herself, wondering if he had noticed her bare ass condition; but he said nothing; he just stared at her.

After a long, uncomfortable silence, Penny ventured, "I understand there is a question about my credit card?"

"No," he said, "it's nothing to do with your credit card. That was just for Phoebe's sake. It's much more serious than that."

Penny felt a tightening in the pit of her stomach. Had Mr. Brown been looking out of his window when she had stuck those grapefruits up her blouse? Had he seen when she lifted her mini skirt and pretended to brush her pubic hair with the scrubbing brush? Brian had found that to be very funny, but perhaps Mr. Brown had not. She could tell that Mr. Brown was struggling to find the right words, but he said nothing.

"Yes?" ventured Penny again.

At last he spoke. "Miss Perkins, it is our company's policy, here at MORE4LESS, to insist on complete decorum in our markets from our staff and also from our customers. What you did this evening was utterly reprehensible."

"I don't know what you're talking about," blustered Penny.

"I think you do," he retorted. "Allow me to prove it to you."

With that, he pulled out a drawer in his desk and pushed a button. Suddenly a large TV screen lit up, something that Penny had not noticed before. Fuzzy black and white pictures in twelve small sections appeared. They were images of the empty aisles of the supermarket.

"My security system," he proudly announced. "All recorded. Sunday, 8 to 9pm," he declared as he selected a cassette and placed it into the slot of a machine in his desk drawer.

Suddenly the pictures changed. Now the store was filled with busy shoppers.

"Come over here," he demanded, and Penny moved over and stood behind him. "Fresh produce aisle," he went on, pointing to one of the screens. He pressed another button and the image fast forwarded. He stopped it at a particular point and Penny saw herself prancing toward the grapefruit stand with Brian close behind with his camera. The scene played out just as she had remembered, not more than 20 minutes beforehand. How stupid of them not to have known they would be filmed!

"That's you with those grapefruit up your blouse," Mr. Brown trumpeted.

"No, not me," lied Penny trying her best to appear outraged at the suggestion.

"You're wearing a blouse exactly like the one on that screen."

"Lots of people wear blouses like this."

"And a mini skirt like the one you're wearing."

"Lots of people wear them."

"OK, then let's try aisle 4."

He focused on a different section of the screen and again fast forwarded it until they could easily identify Penny approaching the camera. He adjusted the speed to slow motion and Penny could be seen lifting her short skirt. Her hairy pussy was clearly visible as he froze the picture. He turned to her icily and said, "And you are not wearing panties now, are you Miss Perkins." It was not a question.

"I certainly am," she retorted, "of course I am." Her tone of voice was losing some of its certainty; she knew it was becoming harder and harder to deny the obvious evidence.

"I think not," went on Mr. Brown, and before Penny knew what was happening, Mr. Brown swiveled in his chair, his hand flew out and he grabbed the corner of her skirt and flipped it up, exposing her nakedness. Shocked, she pushed it down and burst into tears.

Mr. Brown was totally unmoved as he went on sarcastically, "Not many women wear a blouse like yours, a mini skirt like yours, no underwear and have their pubic hair cut in the shape of a heart. I do believe that it's you, Miss Perkins."

"OK, so it was me. What of it? We were just having a little fun," she sobbed.

"We don't consider that fun at MORE4LESS.

I will have to report it to my superior and to the police."

"The police? Why the police?" Penny was getting quite panicked now.

"It's the law. Indecent exposure."

"Oh my God, if you call the police I'll lose my job."

Mr. Brown appeared to be thinking. "Phoebe tells me you work at the Y? I know your boss very well. He's on our board of directors. He'll have to know."

"Mark? You know him? No, you can't tell Mark, I'd definitely get fired."

"I have to. If I don't report you, I could lose my job."

"Oh, please don't do that," begged Penny. "I'll do anything, but please don't tell Mark."

"No, I really have to," went on Mr. Brown, "They'll see the video, then I'll be in trouble."

"Hide it," pleaded Penny, and the conversation went back and forth until finally Mr. Brown softened and told her that he'd see what he could do.

"Come back tomorrow at closing. 9:15. Knock on the staff entrance door and I'll let you in. Maybe we can solve this somehow."

"OK. I'll be here. Please think of something, I simply cannot afford to lose my job."

Gratefully, Penny ran from the room, stumbled down the iron steps and fled all the way back to her apartment, went to bed, pulled the covers way over her head and didn't sleep all night.

The next morning at work, she looked like hell. She stayed in her office all day even though she knew that Phoebe was more than likely in the changing room.

That evening, she forced some food down herself, dressed modestly and walked nervously back to the store and exactly at 9:15 she knocked timidly on the back door. Mr. Brown must have been waiting for her because he let her in immediately, beckoned her to follow him and silently led her back up to his office. He shut and locked the door behind them and Penny could see that the long window was now covered with heavy drapes.

"I've thought a lot about our little problem," began Mr. Brown.

"So have I," cut in Penny. "Can you help me?"

"I think I can help us both," he said quietly and conspiratorially. "But it's at great risk to me. You will have to compensate me considerably."

"Oh, anything, Mr. Brown, just don't report me."

"You'll have to do exactly what I ask."

"Of course. I promise. What do you want me to do?"

"Well," began Mr. Brown slowly, "I understand that you have an interest in photography."

"I suppose so," she agreed.

"We have that in common. I am an avid photographer."

"Really?" she questioned. "I don't see any of your work around here."

"That's true. My photos are not the kind one displays in public. They are a lot more like the sort of photos you like to take in supermarkets."

"Oh, I see," blushed Penny, wondering who would volunteer to be photographed by this brute of a man.

She involuntarily shuddered as he went on, "Now, tomorrow I will have to take a major risk in concealing this video. I don't know how I am going to hide it from my security staff. They check every tape once a week. I think we should start immediately with your compensation. Is that agreeable with you, Miss Perkins?"

"What exactly are we talking about?" asked Penny.

Mr. Brown ignored the question. "So if you wouldn't mind sitting on the couch again, we can get started. I'm glad you dressed more conservatively today. I enjoy the contrast between a smart, career business woman and a slut."

"Slut?" exploded Penny, "how dare you call me that!"

"I think your behavior yesterday made that very evident," he declared archly, and opening another desk drawer he pulled out a small digital camera.

"Would you care to touch up your make up before we begin?" he oozed, and Penny, realizing what she was in for, stubbornly refused to answer as she sat with a furrowed brow on the couch with her legs tightly crossed.

"Good. Let's begin," said Mr. Brown, cheerily. "Let's get a little more relaxed. Sit back, hands away from your chest. Good!"

He began taking pictures and Penny found it hard to maintain her scowl.

"Good!" went on Mr. Brown again. "Now let's lose the jacket."

Penny pulled the jacket tighter around her shoulders and glowered at him.

"Come on now, Penny. Can I call you Penny? You promised to cooperate, remember? You said you'd do anything. This is it. This is the anything I have chosen."

Slowly the jacket came off and Mr. Brown took more photos, but when he asked her to start unbuttoning her blouse, she folded her arms and refused.

"Don't make me force you," he said, moving to his desk, indicating his phone. "Mark is only a phone call away."

Penny quickly agreed to open some buttons and Mr. Brown took more photos as more and more of Penny's bra was revealed. It was a very standard bra, not at all like her 'Lascivious Lingerie' models, but Mr. Brown took photos anyway.

Soon Penny's blouse was discarded and Mr. Brown asked her to remove her skirt. Again, Penny absolutely refused to budge, so again, Mr. Brown approached his phone and very calmly recited the number: “455-1108.”

"Oh my God!" thought Penny. "He knows Mark's home number by heart," and she quickly unbuckled her skirt to the obvious enjoyment of Mr. Brown who directed the action with precise commands.

The skirt was soon out of the picture and Penny was left standing in her least attractive underwear, the boring bra and the granny panties.

"Now, turn your back to me and slowly remove the bra," he instructed, and Penny reluctantly obeyed but held her hands tightly over her tits.

"Hands to your sides, please!" and Penny froze again until Mr. Brown went to his desk again and lifted the receiver. Again she gave in, and now, topless, she watched the expression on his face, practically drooling over the sight of her breasts.

“At least he has good taste in tits,” she ironically thought to herself. They were unlike many women's in that they were identical to each other, very firm for a woman of her age, nicely conically shaped and somewhat larger than the average man's hand could hold. Particularly, Penny was proud of her areolas which were wide, dark and bobbled and which surrounded rigid, little nipples that faced directly forward like a machine gun.

Now it was Mr. Brown's turn to say, "Oh my God!" and Penny could see his hands trembling as he tried to hold the camera steady. Posing her standing and sitting, facing forwards and away, close up and full body, things became easier as Penny's attitude changed from resistance to pride in her figure.

After several minutes, the command finally came. "Panties!"

Once again Penny resisted, and again Mr. Brown went through the charade. This time he dialed the whole number and it began to ring before Penny panicked and shouted "Hang up!" However, before he could put the phone back in its cradle, Penny heard her boss's voice answering, "Hello?" and she was in a cold sweat as she began to remove the last of her clothing.

Slowly, slowly, maddeningly slowly, Mr. Brown directed her to strip and Penny watched him transfixed by her femininity. She suddenly realized that although he was in control, she also wielded a different kind of control over him. Very subtly the photo shoot dynamic began to change; she was now the one offering poses that revealed more and more skin, closer and closer to her private areas. Her ass was now totally exposed, her ass of which she was very proud for its roundness and smoothness. She knew that her tan line appealed enormously to men; Brian had told her that it was obvious from the contrast of the browner areas to the milky white parts that she must have sunbathed practically naked with just a trace of a string-wide thong bikini.

Penny made sure that Mr. Brown appreciated her best angles, and by the time her panties were half way down her thighs, over her knees, at her ankles and then kicked onto the floor, she was getting as turned on as he was, and his first view of her heart-shaped bush showed it glistening with her wetness.

"Oh my God!" escaped from Mr. Brown again, and he lapsed into silence, breathing heavily as she played with the curls of her 'short' hair, teasingly parting it and gradually exhibiting her wet pussy lips, already bright pink and puffing up.

"Enough for tonight!"

It wasn't Mr. Brown who spoke. It was Penny who shocked herself with the implication that there would be more of these sessions. It was with very mixed feelings she walked home that night, turned on sexually but feeling a lot dirtier than she ever had with Brian.

The story continues in Penny’s Other Life, Chapter 3.