I left
college with very good qualifications in bookkeeping, so I wasn’t surprised
when WAP, West Africa Pharmaceuticals offered me a job crunching endless
amounts of statistics for them. The job was almost too good to be true. Getting
my own office and a salary of £25,000 per annum was beyond my wildest dreams,
so I jumped at the chance of working for the multinational company.
However,
as with most work situations, the job wasn’t quite as straightforward as it
first appeared. My immediate boss, Catharine Blackburn behaved like a pleasant,
easy-going individual when she interviewed me; but turned out to be exactly the
opposite. Unfortunately, my office was next door to hers and because she
insisted on the door being open at all times, I was at her beck and call from
the moment I arrived to when I left for home.
Apart
from her constant interruptions and demands for me to run errands for her, she
was always criticising my choice of outfits and even what shoes I was wearing.
I had been there a month, when Miss Blackburn, as she liked me to call her,
called me into her office.
“Molly,”
she began. “As you know, you’ve been with us a month and we… er the doctor and I, are very pleased with your work
ethic.”
“Thank
you Miss,” I responded, relieved I wasn’t getting a reprimand for something I
had done wrong.
“However,”
she continued. “We would both like you to smarten yourself up.”
My
clothes were as smart as hers, but I didn’t want to upset her. I was wearing a
black pencil skirt and yellow blouse.
“Oh …
Yes … I’ll make more of an effort, Miss.”
“Molly,
you’ve seen how many distinguished scientists and academics visit the office
and attend meetings with Joseph… er… Doctor Undoko. You need to attend some of these meetings, so we
want you to wear something pleasing on the eye. You are young and attractive,
so we feel that your clothes should reflect your age and personality.”
I
continued nodding through her diatribe, but stopped when she lifted a package
from her bag and placed it on the table.
“This
is a complete set of clothes, Molly. Wear them into the office tomorrow and if
you’re comfortable, we’ll buy you a second set.”
I was
lost for words for a moment, but recovered. “Yes… Sure, Miss Blackburn. I’m
sure they’ll be comfortable…”
I was
quite particular about what I wore, so I was annoyed about having to wear what
amounted to a uniform to work.
Our
small suite of offices were cut off from the main laboratory complex, so I
didn’t have much contact with many of the other junior members of staff; but we
did get a lot of senior staff visiting, mainly men, to run through the figures
with Catherine and the doctor. Was there something going on that I wasn’t aware
of? I wondered.
***
The
following morning I tried to concentrate on the sheets of statistics sitting in
front of me. Catherine had phoned in to say she and the doctor would be late,
so I had a nervous wait before I could discuss the outfit I was wearing with
her.
The
red pleated skirt fitted me, but was way too short. I normally wear my clothes
to the knee, but the skirt was mid-thigh. Two inches shorter and I could have
played tennis in it!
The
thin white blouse was a tad on the small size for my ‘C’ cups and because there
was no bra in the package I chose a plain white one of my own. The part of the
outfit that really concerned me though, was the full white cotton panties and
short white ankle socks. They were more suited to a young teenager, not a 21
year old statistics clerk. And, the black stilettoes had three inch heels, not
the most practical footwear for the office!
I was
on my feet, making a cup of coffee when Catherine finally arrived and entered
the tiny kitchenette to talk to me. Standing just 5 feet away, she looked me up
and down.
“Molly,
you look amazing. Doctor Undoko will be very pleased to see you looking
smarter.”
‘Yes, I bet he will!’ I had quickly gotten used to his hungry eyes undressing
me whenever I entered his office. I had no option, but to walk round to stand
beside him, before laying the statistics out on his desk.
Each
Monday, Wednesday and Friday afternoon at about three o’clock, it was my job to
take daily production reports through to Doctor Undoko and help him make sense
of the figures.
“Thank
you, Miss,” I responded to her observation.
I was
in two minds whether to complain about the tight panties, which were way too
small for me, but to my chagrin the dominant woman pre-empted my comments.
“The panties,
Molly. Are you wearing them?” she asked casually. While I reddened and dithered
to reply, she continued. “They were the only thing I wasn’t sure about. I know
you’re an 8, but underwear sizes can be confusing.”
I do
have a pert butt, but not as big as Catherine’s, whose ass could only be
described as full and well-padded.
“I, er … Well they’re a bit tight…”
“Show
me!” she ordered in a strong authoritative tone.
I put
the percolator down and hesitated. I have nice legs, so I wasn’t embarrassed to
display them. It was just such a peculiar demand to make at that particular
moment. However, she was glaring at me and I found myself involuntarily lifting
the hem of my skirt.
“Right
up, Molly, let me see the waistband.”
The
tight elastic almost reached my navel, so I ended up pulling the red material
as high as it would go.
She reached
out, and grasping the band of elastic, she pulled it away from my belly for a
second. “They look a perfect fit, what about the legs?” I froze when she
dropped her hands and slid a finger under each leg elastic, in the front, just
inches away from my mons. Her fingers slid sideways and down until they were
almost touching, among my pubes. “Just as I thought – perfect. I’ll get you a
pack.”
“Do…
do you mean…?” I floundered. “You want me to wear them every day?”
She
removed her fingers and adjusted the elastic.
“Yes,
Molly and I’m going to check from time to time. I want you to keep them in
pristine condition. The doctor is very particular about such things,” she
added, cryptically.
“Oh,
yes, okay.” I could see her eying my mons.
The
short black ends of my pubes were poking through the thin material and the
outline of my labium dimple was discernible at the apex of my thighs. I had a
sudden thought that I was in the company of a raving lesbian, but dismissed the
thought, because I was pretty sure that she was bedding the doctor.
“You
can drop your skirt, Molly. Make me a coffee and bring it through.” With that,
the tall, black dominatrix turned and left me alone to mull over the bizarre
clothing situation.
***
I
tried to avoid Catherine, by burying myself in my work. I needed to prepare the
latest financial report for the doctor, so I had a good excuse to keep my head
down. I knew he fancied the socks off me, just by the way his eyes followed me
wherever I went; and to hear that he wanted me to dress in short skirts got me
thinking.
Was he
kinky and into cosplay, or schoolgirl outfits? Did he expect Catherine, or his
other partners, to dress up while having sex with him? I couldn’t help running
various scenarios through my head.
He was
a handsome Afro-Caribbean man, but too old for me. However, I still found
myself wondering if he would make a saucy comment or compliment me about a
personal matter. I was always disappointed though, for he kept his focus on
business and kept his comments within the parameters of the reports I was
presenting to him.
“The doctor
is ready for you, Molly!” Catherine said sternly from the open doorway.
“Oh!
Yes,” I gasped, flustered by her sudden appearance.
I
closed the file and jumped to my feet and followed Catherine through her office
and into the doctor’s, where we found him talking on the phone. Catherine
waited patiently until he put the receiver down, whereupon he swivelled to face
us.
I was
holding the file against my chest, but he took his time to study my skirt and
legs. “Molly, that’s much smarter.” He turned to Catherine and signalled that
she should leave. “Thanks Cathy, I’ll buzz you when we’ve finished.”
He
waited until Cathy had left the room before pointing at the floor on his side
of the desk. “Put your folder down and come round here, Molly.”
I
dutifully did as I was told and presented myself between his widely-spread
knees.
“You
brighten the place up, Molly. I’m so impressed with your performance, you’ll
find a small bonus in your next wage packet. I know you’ll appreciate the extra
money,” he added, while continuing to undress me with his huge brown eyes.
I had
a sudden premonition that he was going to ask to look at my panties, but
thankfully he didn’t!
“Thank
you, sir,” I said, shuffling my feet awkwardly. “Er,
the report sir,” I reminded him.
“Yes,
Molly, show me the figures.”
He
swivelled back to his desk, while I bent forward to pull the file toward us. I
felt the hem of my skirt draw up almost to my panties, due to my straight
legged posture. I saw him move his right arm and it wasn’t completely
unexpected when I felt his hand settle on the pleats covering my posterior.
Later,
I worked out that it was the 12th time I had presented the reports to him over
the previous month, so he had waited patiently until I was completely relaxed
in his company. I usually wore a knee length pencil skirt, which would have
stymied any attempt to touch me intimately, so it was obvious what he was up
to.
Once
Catherine had laid the groundwork by getting me to dress in an easily
accessible outfit, the good doctor was taking the bull by the horns and testing
me to see how far he could go. The thought of someone so important risking his
reputation to touch his assistant, gave me a warm feeling, deep in the very
centre of my pussy.
The
situation thrilled me and I was foolish enough to think he was interested in me
as a person and not as a sex object.