The Price of Love

The following chapters have been edited by Woodsman's game and Curtis. I thank them both for their time, effort, and kindness.

Chapter One – Elise

Layla's Leatherwear - it stocked nothing but leather – clothing, boots, chaps, whips and more. If you wanted it, and it was made of hide, Layla's was the place to go. Although expensive, the store always did good business.

Elise loved to go there. She loved the smell of the leather, the feel of it, and even the sound it made when it slapped against her bare skin when she wore it. She inhaled the sweet smell and sighed. As she ran her fingers over the smooth garments, a little black skirt studded with metal rivets, and obviously very short caught her attention. She closed her eyes for a moment and imagined herself wearing it. How she would be stared at with such lust. How it would be so disgustingly short it would barely cover her sweet little bottom and show off her lovely legs. How men would wolf whistle and women wink suggestively. She wanted it. She glanced down at the price tag. "Forget it," she told herself, "it's far more than you can possibly afford." Having been out of work for more than two weeks, and wondering how she would pay her next week's rent, little luxuries like this were simply out of the question. She pulled it from the rack and held it up against her hips, turning this way and that to study her refection in the nearby mirror – and she knew she had to have it regardless!

On this particular day it was quieter than usual. Kitty, the sales assistant, wasn't anywhere to be seen, and two other people, a man and a woman, were the only other customers. The security guard appeared to be distracted by them as they flirted and teased each other. The man held a pair of black leather trousers; the crotch was completely missing and a short strap with a metal large metal ring hung from the front. The woman pouted as she ran her finger around the inside of the ring and told him, "I don't think this is going to be big enough for you."

They laughed.

"Not once you get hold of me!"

They laughed more.

"I want you to try them on."

Together, they disappeared into a changing cubicle. The door closed and Elise heard a shrill feminine cry, followed by giggling and knocking. Normally, she would have moved closer while pretending to browse; she often enjoyed listening to the couples when they disappeared like that. Today, however, she had something more pressing on her on her mind.

She looked over at the security guard. He glanced surreptitiously around before sidling over to the changing cubicles. She needed to do it now. It would be risky, but she could do it. For several moments she stood there, looking down and pretending to check the price tags, then she dropped her bag off her shoulder and gently pushed the garment inside. It was so small that it fitted inside easily. There, it had been so damned easy! She began to walk away.

"Stop right there, sweetheart."

She froze then gasped as a firm hand gripped her shoulder. She spun around to see a tall man in his early forties, with a slight paunch, beady eyes and greasy receding hair, wearing a dark blue uniform and a lecherous grin. Previously, Elise hadn't particularly liked the look of the security guard; now she certainly didn't!

She managed a weak smile, then asked innocently: "Is there some kind of problem here?"

"Damned right there is. I saw what you just did."

Elise let out a breathy little sigh. "Oh, you saw what?"

"I saw you shove that skirt in your bag."

"Oh?" She smiled again. "Now, how can you be so sure?" Feeling a little more relaxed now after the initial surprise, she looked straight ahead at this chest and began fiddling with the buttons on his shirt, fingering them playfully.

That hadn't been the reaction he had expected, he hesitated unsure of what to do next, then grinned down at her. "So, you like to play, do you?"

"I might. I might even like to give you a little private viewing of me wearing the silly little skirt that all this fuss is about," she replied, moving a little closer while trying to ignore the smell of body odor and stale cigarettes emitting from him.

"You know, I think perhaps we might be able to come to some kind of arrangement here," he told her. "Yes, indeedy!"

Placing her hand over her mouth to hide a little grin, she thought smuggly: "Some times it's just too damned easy. Oh, you're so damned good, Elise, you really are!"

He ushered her into an office at the back of the store. Elise had expected they would be alone in there, instead they were confronted by an attractive woman sitting behind a large wooden desk. She noted a small brass name plaque with the name 'Ms. Layla Starr' engraved on it. "So this was the lovely Layla," she thought. How many rumours and kinky stories had she heard about this woman, and yet, sitting there flawlessly groomed and in a crisp white blouse, she actually looked quite business-like.

As the two entered, Layla looked up and began studying the girl's features. The sweet face would surely have had a rather innocent appeal if not for the scarlet red lipstick so carelessly smudged over the mouth, and the clear sapphire eyes spoiled with overly dark shadow. However, the clothes were what really told Layla everything she needed to know. The tight red skirt had ridden up and now pulled across the girl's hips, and the black top, clinging and stretching over her breasts and nipples, revealed that she obviously didn't wear a bra. "The cheap clothes of a whore," Layla noted silently to herself. She leaned back in her chair and in a nonchalant manner inquired: "Well?"

"I caught this one trying to steal, Mistress Layla," the security guard announced, adding, "she almost got away with it too, but not with old Marty, here, on the job. "

Elise swung around and glared at him. "What does the fool think he's up to?" she asked herself, while frantically trying to think of another plan.

"Is that so? Well, what am I to do with such a naughty little girl, Martin?" As Layla stood up, and moved around to the front of the desk, Elise couldn't help silently swooning at the tight, black, leather skirt worn so well by this intriguing woman with the cascading dark hair and mysterious cat-like green eyes. Tall and slim, with long legs accentuated by high-heeled shoes, anyone, male or female, would have to have seen that Layla was all woman.

"I could think of many things, Ma'am," the security guard told her with a smirk.

"Yes, what ever happened to the last one we had to report, Martin?"

"Last I heard she was still in that women's prison just outside of town. A friend of mine told me she's sorry now, real sorry, just like this one is going to be."

"Now then, Martin, let's not be so hasty. We really should give the girl a chance to explain," Layla smiled, leaning forward to gently brush Elise's curls back from her face and take a closer look.

"It's all a mistake!" Elise protested.

Layla looked her up and down, "Well of course it is, dear. I understand. I really do." Then her expression changed. She pursed her lips and continued. "Now understand this: I don't want to report you to the police – I really don't. If I do, you will be locked up for a long time, just like Martin here said. You know Martin used to work at a women's jail." Layla sighed. "Oh dear, the stories he could tell you; dreadful, simply dreadful."

Martin grinned.

"Yes, I know all about you. Only this time, my sweet little pet, you're not going to talk your way out of it quite so easily."

What did this woman know about her? It wasn't important. Elise needed to get out of there. Yes, she would use the same little trick she had used time and time before. She began to cry. Sad, soft, little sobs at first that made her whole body jerk with each gasp. Then, burying her face in her quivering hands, she stooped over, and let the tears flow freely. "Please, it was all a mistake! I've never done anything like this before! I don't know what came over me. Please don't report me. Please!" she begged, stopping only briefly to glance up and see if her little performance was having the desired effect.

Was it really her fault she had to have nice things? It had been the same ever since she was a little girl. She would see something she wanted; she would have to have it, and so she would take it. Of course, there were many occasions when she had been caught. She would beg and plead. Her soft brown curls would fall down over her sweet face, and tears would well up in her big blue eyes. She would cry, promise never to do it again, and all would be forgiven. Since then she had grown up into a lovely looking young woman; nothing else, however, had changed.

The truth was, Layla knew nothing of her or the cunning little games she so often played, but she knew Elise's kind. Pretty little things who schemed and planned, who were conniving and conceited, and believed they could get away with anything with anyone. What sweet little fools they were.

Layla moved closer and slipped an arm around the girl's shoulders. "Now then, there's no need to cry. I'm sure we can come to some kind of arrangement here," she explained, pulling Elise closer to comfort her, letting the side of the girl's face rest against her breasts. Wet tears began to mark the fine fabric of Layla's bouse, making little transparent patches and revealing parts of her lacey bra.

The security guard grinned and ogled the two women, licking his lips and staring unashamedly, as if by blinking he might miss some salacious little detail.

"But, I have no money, and I've been unemployed for the last two weeks."

Layla smiled. Those were the words she liked to hear. Releasing Elise, then standing up, she told her, "No money?

Oh, you silly little thing you, who said anything about money?" Then, turning to Martin, added. "Leave us."

He made an audible sigh, shook his head and shuffled out of the room.

"Please sit down. I'm Layla Starr. You may call me... well, we can sort that out later. And you are?"

"Elise; my name's Elise, Ma'am."

"Well, Elise, you know it just so happens I'm looking for someone..." she hesitated for a moment before continuing, "...a personal assistant. No, not at the shop here, at my home. It's not difficult work at all, really. In fact, I'm sure it would suit a pretty little girl like you. The pay is good, in fact, you'll find that I can be a very generous, to those who please me." Layla smiled as she sat on the edge of her desk then, leaning over and placing her hand on Elise's knee, she added in a whispered tone, "You do understand what I am saying, don't you?"

"Oh, yes, I understand completely. Thank you so much."

Elise wiped her face with back of her hand while nodding and trying not to grin. "I did it again!" she told herself triumphantly. "Working for Layla will be so easy. Obviously, what I've heard is true, she's got a thing for women – well isn't that just going to be a sweet bonus. Why, if I please her, she may even give me that skirt! Sure, she will. Oh, she seems so nice. Yes, I can use that to my advantage too."

Layla slowly pushed her fingers between Elise's legs, gently rubbing them up and down the inside of her thighs before pulling away. "Of course, it will be a live-in position. I have a very large house. You can have your own room."

As Layla explained the details, Elise liked the sound of it more and more.

"Can you move in tomorrow?"

"Yes, of course."

The following day, Elise packed her bags.