Young Folks
You should've known you'd end up in this position at some point. Seven weeks since leaving Riga and you had worn everything in your bag more than probably socially acceptable. Even the Baron resorted to wearing the classic jacket-and-ballcap look to be less conspicuous at times, only at your insistence. The fitting room you currently occupied was looking more like a tornado had blown through it than a person. Helmut insisted that you pick out a variety. Dresses, blouses, sweaters, and pants lined the walls and bench within the room. You glanced in the mirror. The jeans you had on fit like a second skin. They should for the price of them, you thought. Helmut did say he wanted to treat you - "for you, anything mein liebe."
The two of you had been in the shop for nearly an hour now. The staff followed the Baron likpuppies, placing all the items you chose into the fitting room for you. Helmut insisted you try on anything and everything that struck your eye. By now you were on outfit 14. 15 maybe? You lost count. “I really think we should have some sort of fashion show montage music playing. Really set the mood.”
Opening the door to show Zemo, you couldn't help but notice how his gaze slid up the length of your legs before settling on the curve of your ass. He only broke away when you spoke. "I really like these high waisted ones much better than the lower cut. Gotta contain the ‘fupa’ - keep that bad boy in," you laughed. You turned, wiggling your hips as you showed off the jeans.
Blinking once, Helmut cocked his head to the side, "contain the…. What?"
“The ‘fupa’.” The clueless look remained on his face, eyebrows scrunched. Oh he’s so adorable when he’s confused. Putting him out of his misery you gesture to the lower pouch of your stomach. “That’s what all the kids are calling it these days,” you explain, trying to sound cultured.
“I see…. It appears I am quite behind on what is considered young and ‘hip’ now.”
“Years in a maximum security prison will do that to you. Don’t worry - I’ll catch you up, old man,” you wink before closing the dressing room door.
Shimmying out of the jeans you pick the next item to try on. Leggings and a purple knit sweater; simple and comfy. You ready yourself to show Helmut, but when you open the door he’s no longer seated on the chair he previously occupied. Shrugging, you admire yourself in the 3-faced mirror along the wall. The sweater emphasizes the curves you like while hiding those you don’t.
Two outfits later and still no Helmut; you begin to worry that something is wrong. Opening the door once more you clutch at your chest in shock. He’s leaning on the doorframe, a sly smile on his face. “Jesus, Helmut - you nearly gave me a heart attack! Where’ve you been I was getting worried?” You glance down at the movement of his arm.
“I was on a mission,” he shrugged, his smirk never fading. Holding out the pieces of material, you see exactly what kept him from you. Sets of lace, ribbons, and straps were placed in your hands. Lingerie. “I have kept your preference for the high waisted, as you said you are more fond of it. Although, I would love you in anything…. Or nothing.” Your face heats under his stare. Turning to close the door, Helmut called out a “don’t be long now, liebling.”
Looking through the options you decided on the simple off-white babydoll and panty set first. Although quite transparent, you admired how delicate you felt. White was not always the most flattering color for someone trying to hide the softness of their body, but if Helmut picked it out there must be a reason. You certainly did look angelic. “Meine engel,” you could imagine him saying.
Next you grab a navy blue teddy. The mesh is covered in small polka dots of the same blue, featuring a sweetheart neckline, cinched waist, and cheeky backside. The cut felt vintage; add red lip and you could be a real pinup girl. As much as you wanted to show Helmut you didn’t think the shop owner would appreciate you traipsing around half-nude.
The last set you reach for is a deep purple. The same color as his mask, of course, you think. Three pieces make it up. Taking a minute to ensure each strap is correctly in place, you nearly gasp when you see yourself in the mirror. A balconette bustier presses your ample breasts up and inward in an obscene manner. Garter belt, sans stockings, clasped around your middle accentuates the narrowest part of your thick waist. The thong sits high on your wide hips, the globes of your backside on full display. You should feel entirely exposed. Instead you feel like an absolute goddess draped in his color. His goddess.
“I hope there is good reason for you to keep me waiting, schatz.” Zemo calls from the chair outside.
“Ye-yeah, I’ll be done in a minute,” you call out, not yet ready to leave the bubble you’ve found yourself in. Deciding that you don’t want to leave it, you find the next best solution. Ripping the price tag off the set you have on, you redress in the clothes you wore to the shop, all while leaving the lingerie underneath. You stuff your boring undergarments in your oversized purse and grab the items you are purchasing.
“I trust you found something you liked?” Helmut inquired, a hand on your back as he led you to the register.
“I did,” came your flippant reply.
Reaching the register you placed your items down before handing the removed price tag directly to the cashier with a smile. The Baron’s brow raised at the action for a moment before connecting the dots. A huff left his nose at the realization of which piece was missing from the pile, and thus where that set currently was. You ignored the way his heated stare bore holes into you.
Finishing the transaction, Helmut grabbed the bags before leading you out of the shop. Leaning in you placed a sweet kiss to his cheek, a whispered “thank you daddy,” in his ear.
“We should return home.” Helmut stood rigid, his pupils blown as he regarded you. The faint pressure of a growing hardness pressed into your hip. It was easy to guess what was on his mind.
Uh uh. That won’t do. You wanted to see him suffer. As much as he teased you the last few weeks with everything he did you wanted a taste of the action. To make him have to think about what you have underneath your clothes. About your body wrapped in his color. About all the things he wants to do to you but can’t. You decide to pretend not to notice his current predicament. Innocently as possible, you whine “already? I’m not done yet, I really wanted to visit the little bookstore up the block. And then I figured we could go get a cup of tea - I can catch you up on what us young folk are up to these days! Someone needs to educate you, so we might as well get to it!”
“Oh I’ll show you what is up, schatz,” Helmut growls.
You give him your best puppy dog look before he sighs. Pulling away from you to compose himself, you begin your journey to the bookstore, biting your lip in satisfaction. “Come on, boomer!” you yell. Zemo trails behind.
“I am in trouble…” he mumbles to himself.