Stitch Witch

Part 3

Authors notes: Terms: Judy is a dress form, we do not call them 'mannequins'. Placket is a part of clothing that has two layers like the opening of a shirt front or cuffs.

On my OC name. I chose the name of my oc when I was about 12 and I have never changed it even though Ivysil is not the best last name ever. It's just embedded in my brain at this point. I struggled with this last part which is why it took so long to come out. In the end I realised this story is about not only bringing my sewing occupation into my stories but also examining my complicated relationship with Severus as I became an adult and there was more to him than first meets the eye. Part 3 starts right where part 2 ends. Enjoy!

I locked the shop and lowered the lights. We returned to the fitting room. "I believe it's my turn first" he said as we approached the pedestal in the middle of the room. He guided me to stand there looking in the mirror with him just like we had been a few moments before while examining his new waistcoat. "Do you often slip notes into customer's pockets?"

"Never."

"Why mine?"

"When I had your old clothes on the stand I was nearly constantly overwhelmed by the urge to be near them. That's never happened to me before. I do not usually get butterflies when moving a judy across the room."

"How interesting." He responded, he stood behind me, draping his forearms over my shoulders, wrists resting on my upper chest he brought his fingers together to work the button at my throat between my lace edged collar. As he slips the little pearl button through its slot I breath out a very sexual sigh. Something is coming undone inside me along with that button. I pray I will maintain composure as he continues.

With his left hand he fingers the small exposure of flesh at my throat and with his right he skips down my front counting buttons out loud. "One down, five more to go." He informs me into my ear and I shiver in anticipation.

He takes the next pearl between his fingers and examines it over my shoulder before flicking it through its slot. "Four more." He growls into my ear and I have to remember to breathe and not to lock my knees as I stand still.

The next one is right at my bust point. I'm waiting for him to find out I have two secret extra clasps to keep this blouse from pulling open where the fullest part of my chest strains the fabric. He finds them when he pushes the pearl through and it does not release.

"Sneaky." He whispers. "These were not included in my count."

"They are not buttons. But they are necessary to stop my breasts from popping out of this shirt."

As he undid the two small clasps to reveal my lace bra he intoned sarcastically "What a tragedy that would be." His fingertips explore my collar bones and then the edge of the lace bra cups.

We stare at each other in the mirror. His breath passing my ear is making my heart race. His fingers travel to the next button and I feel quite certain I am slightly shaking with excitement. He opens it and leans very slightly closer as he does. "Two more" his lips grazed my ear.

"One left..." he warns as his fingers get the penultimate button in his grasp. He slides it through. Then he pulls my hair away from my face and carefully presses his lips to my jaw under my ear. My breath breaks into little shards and scatters out of my mouth. His right fingers skate over the lace of my bra.

"My turn." I breathe.

I step out of the centre of the pedestal so he is in the focus of the mirror. He watches me with a bemused expression as I circle him in my open blouse. I choose to start on one of his cuffs. I pick up his left hand. I explore where the linen shirt cuff ends and his palm flesh begins. I slip my fingers inside this cuff and feel his pulse in the veins of his wrist, they are fitted so tightly there is barely room for my invading finger tips.