Dress Code, part 2 - Sex Stories

Dress Code, part 2

... wasn’t until she opened her underwear drawer that she fully woke up, even without caffeine. Underwear. It all came crashing back. Mr. Slater’s inspection. Her foolish decision yesterday not to wear the garments prescribed by the firm’s unusually detailed dress code. Her spanking. Her orgasm. The blowjob. Carol Jones. Somehow she still hesitated as she looked at the tidy contents of her lingerie drawer. Not having a thong or stockings or the right kind of bra hadn’t really been so awful the previous day, after all. The embarrassment had been huge, but she couldn’t remember the last time she had been so excited. Mr. Slater had been understanding. Was it all a pretense, an excuse to use her sexually? That is, if she dressed “correctly,” would it be a disappointment that there was nothing to “punish” her for? Or had it been left clear that further disobedience would result in termination? Would proper attire lead to her being rewarded? She wondered if Miss Jones had reported how she tasted to Mr. Slater, as she had threatened (promised?) to. Would her boss lick her pussy? Fuck her? What else might he require her to do? And would she? She couldn’t answer that question yet. Ultimately, she decided to be obedient. Less because of strategy than because the idea of making Mr. Slater upset worried her. She ...

... selected her sexiest, tiniest thong. A black satin one that barely covered her pubic area, and which tied at the sides with little ribbons. Sheer black stockings to which she attached a black lace garter belt. And a filmy, wispy lace bra that didn’t do much except give her a hint of mostly unneeded support underneath. The lace in the cups was practically sheer, and her nipples were visible through the material until she buttoned her blouse. Even so, she felt that her breasts were more on display than she would have thought appropriate for work. She was, however, in compliance to the full letter of the dress code once she put on her skirt and stepped into her heels, higher than those of the previous day. She attracted more than the usual appreciative glances and even whistles on her walk to work, her flaming red hair acting almost as a beacon to male attention. Once on her firm’s floor, she knocked on Miss Jones’s door, and the beautiful blonde called her in with a smile. Once more, Anne found herself on the receiving end of the secretary’s cool, appraising gaze. “Go right in, Miss Burlington, they’re expecting you.” Anne nodded in relief as she realized that she had passed the initial inspection, and it wasn’t until she reached the inner door that the full import of Miss Jones’s words hit her. They?