At that moment, the doorbell sounded and Harvey knew that it was Betty. She was wearing a very elegant pantsuit and appeared poised and calm. But she seemed surprised that there was no one else but himself and Jean there.
"In cases like this, when we're in a real hurry, Jean and I just pick up the outfits from the client and fit them here in my apartment. It saves time and a lot of trouble."
Betty thought the explanation plausible and greeted Jean warmly. There was a sort of rapport between the two women and Betty was genuinely glad to see the older woman again.
"Any problems with fitting, Jean can handle it," Harvey assured her, and then offered her a drink.
"But shouldn't we…" she began hesitantly.
"A quick drink will loosen you up," Peterson told her and poured her a double Scotch.
Betty accepted it and sat beside Jean on the sofa.
"The ad is to be built around an elegant sitting room, with Nor-Dansk furniture the main attraction. But they want to have a very stunning woman, who is obviously getting ready to entertain some guests, to adorn the furniture. And that's where you, and these dresses," pointing to several long evening gowns, "come in!"
"They're beautiful!" Betty gasped in awe.
"The client thinks you're far more beautiful," Harvey said truthfully. "Now if you're ready, Jean can help you into one of the dresses. Try the silver lame one first."
Betty, when she stood up, found that she almost lost her balance and had to cling to the other woman for support. Oh God, what did I drink? she wondered as she stumbled over to the other room. Her head seemed to be reeling and she was glad that Jean was helping her, as the dress was tight and close-fitting. But when it was finally on, it looked as if it had been molded to her body. Jean wouldn't let her wear a brassiere, and the low, deep "vee" in front emphasized her voluptuously full breasts. There was a split, almost thigh-high in one side and the shimmering material sparkled and glinted as she moved. Jean wouldn't allow her to wear panties or stockings, either, saying that unless they were specially made, they would spoil the lines of the dress. Betty had felt strange about stripping completely naked in front of the other girl, but Jean didn't even seem to notice. She added a few touches to Betty's mane of tawny hair and then ushered her out to where Harvey was waiting.
Betty had forgotten almost about her incident with Harvey because he had been so pleasant, and so businesslike, but now, as she stepped into the living room, clad in the sexy, provocative dress, the memory of her submission and arousal came flooding back and crimsoned her face with embarrassment. Harvey's eyes seemed to devour her body, feasting on her sensual cleavage, riveting on the smooth sweep of her graceful hips.
"Pretty good… pretty good…" he said at length, after he had instructed her to turn slowly around. "But I think the black might be better!"
"I think this one is pretty spectacular," Jean said, and Betty had to agree with her.
"No, let's try the black," Harvey insisted. "After all; you don't want to outshine the furniture!"
Jean moved towards Betty and began to pull down the zipper of the dress.
"But… but…" Betty said startled, as she felt the edges of the dress fall away from her back. "Let's go into the other room!" she finished quickly.
"Why, honey?" Harvey sniggered. "I already know all your secrets…"
Betty felt a fiery blush creeping up her face. What did he mean? He had seen her body naked, when he had taken those photographs, but was he referring to the other day when he had fingered her pussy?
"I'd rather change in the other room," she said meekly, turning towards the door.
"Oh, don't be silly, Betty," Jean said briskly, easing down the dress, revealing Betty's proudly upswept breasts, the nipples already stiff and erect.
"Please, Jean," Betty began, tears starting to her eyes.
"You've got nothing to hide, have you?" Harvey said, his voice vaguely sneering.
Betty felt as if she had been turned to stone, and she stood motionless as Jean slipped the dress down over her hips. Numbly, she stepped out of it, and stood there, naked and shivering.
"Go get that black number, will you, Jean?" Harvey asked.
"Why, where is it?" Betty asked, suddenly not wanting to be alone with Harvey.
"It's just out in the car; I won't be a moment," Jean replied, and Betty was aware of mounting panic. This was just like the other time, when Jean had left on a sudden pretext. Betty had been left alone with Harvey…
She turned wild, staring eyes on him, as if seeing him for the first time.
"Don't worry," Harvey said smoothly, "Jean'll be back in a moment. In the meantime, just relax. Sit down and make yourself comfortable…"
As if in a daze, Betty sat down on the sofa, and as she did so, Harvey moved very close to her, and then, he was kissing her! For a moment, she was too surprised to do anything as his lips bruised down on hers, and his tongue shot between her unresisting teeth. His arms were tight around her and his jacket felt rough on her bare, naked flesh.
"Stop it! Stop it!" she said at last, recovering her equilibrium, desperately drumming at his chest.
"Why should I?" Harvey leered. "Just relax and you'll enjoy it!"
"Leave me alone! Get away from me or I'll scream!"
Harvey laughed, a coarse, triumphant laugh.
"What if someone comes running after you scream? What then?" Betty stared at him uncomprehendingly.
"They'll see you sitting here, completely naked, and what'll they think?" he elaborated gleefully.
Realization dawned on Betty. He had trapped her… but what was he going to do to her?
"What do you want from me?" she said tonelessly.
"Just do as I say, honey, and everything will be all right," Harvey replied, his hand casually fondling the frustratedly trembling mound of her breast.
"And if I don't?" Betty asked defiantly.
"Mmm… your precious Doug might be very interested in those shots I took of you a couple of weeks back…"
"You wouldn't!" Betty hissed disbelievingly. "You wouldn't show them to my husband!"
"Sure I would… if you don't go along with what I want!"
"And what do you want?" Betty asked in a frail whisper.
"Why, nothing more than a taste of that sweet little cunt of yours!" Harvey said lasciviously, his hand dropping to the flat plane of her stomach, and further still to tangle among the first straying wisps of her red pussy hair.
Betty's head swam. Oh God, it couldn't be true. What had she let herself in for?
"Now honey, you might just as well do as I say… after all, you might enjoy it!"
"Enjoy it?" Betty hissed vehemently. "Never! I'd rather die!"
"Well, well, listen to who's talking. It seems to me as if you didn't mind too much when my fingers were rummaging around in your cunt a few days back!" Harvey spat furiously.
Betty's face blanched and self-loathing welled up inside her. He was right, of course. She had enjoyed his lewd handling. What must he think of her? No wonder he thought he could get away with anything with her…
"Please, Harvey," she began again in a different vein, "let me go. It doesn't matter if I don't get the job. Only don't touch me, please…"
"You don't seem to realize, honey, that I hold all the cards. Whether or not you get the assignment depends on me, and don't you forge it. And as for not touching you, remember that the evidence against you looks pretty condemning… those nudie shots, you here naked with me now…"
Betty closed her eyes to blot out the picture she portrayed. Foolishly, she had let her imagination run away with her, had let herself be persuaded into posing nude for this unscrupulous man. Now he had her in his power… and there was nothing she could do.