pair of tights since that fateful day in the forest.
Naturally, she was nervous – as anyone on their first day in a new job might be – but she was also excited. The lace stocking-tops rubbing together beneath the tight skirt might have been having an effect as well. Stopping to compose herself at the door, she realised that her nipples were pressing against the lacy confines of her bra. She took out her mirror compact, checked that her make-up was just that crucial bit overdone and tarty, and knocked on the door.
‘Enter.’ Both voices, dark and light, in shiver-inducing harmony.
She grasped the handle with both hands and turned it, standing in the doorway for a moment to assess how best to reach their twin desks, set at diagonal angles to each other, without tripping on the carpet fibres. The morning sunlight streamed in through the window, catching the imposing pair, who had stood to receive their new handmaiden, in its radiant beams.
‘Good morning, Charlotte.’ Collins was the first to speak. ‘Are you going to stand in the doorway all day?’
She took a hesitant step forward, but he shook his head and frowned, tutting slightly, making a downward motion with one hand.
‘Hands and knees, Charlotte,’ he instructed.
‘Oh!’ She covered her mouth with her hand, feeling dizzy and giggly. They really were going to continue with this dynamic, even in the office. How … interesting. Wondering if it would be possible to sustain total submission over the course of a working day, Charlotte dropped to her knees, thankful for the embracing plush of the carpet. She moved forward, unable to look her bosses in the eye, moving between chair legs and pot plants until she reached the desk interface, at the apex of which her new colleagues stood, side by side, smiling down at her if she had but known, though she imagined them to be stony-faced.
‘Up,’ said Bryant gently, and she perched up on her knees, back straight and shoulders back, breathing a little unevenly. She felt Bryant’s hand cup her chin and lift her head up so that she was looking up his long torso to the overhang of his head, right into his clear blue eyes.
‘Make-up is good,’ he said, but to Collins, not to her. ‘Nice shade of lipstick. What’s it called, Charlotte?’
‘Harlot.’
They chuckled in unison. ‘How perfectly appropriate,’ approved Collins. ‘Charlotte the harlot. It’s the very shade that always looks so good around a cock. Don’t you think?’
‘I certainly do,’ replied Bryant. ‘Good girl. You may stand, for the rest of the inspection.’
Charlotte rose to her feet, feeling shambling and awkward, her head hanging down over the flapping open collar of her blouse.
‘And such a stylish bra too,’ noted Collins with a vocal smirk.
‘I love a girl who doesn’t match her underwear with her clothes. Dark bras under white shirts …’
‘Visible panty lines are supposed to be such a fashion crime,’ mused Collins. ‘I never understood that. I once followed a girl the length of Oxford Street because she was wearing such an obvious pair of high-cut knickers under a very tight miniskirt. It defined her arse rather wonderfully.’
‘Oh, I wish I’d seen that.’
‘Perhaps we could get Charlotte to do it.’
‘Good idea.’
‘One more button, Charlotte. You look wanton, but today I think I’m in the mood for slutty. No, I’ll do it for you.’
Collins reached out to undo a third pearl button, leaving her cleavage exposed right down to the front-fastening clip of her bra.
‘Do you get many visitors to the office?’ asked Charlotte nervously.
Bryant put a finger to his lips while Collins shook his head, giving his colleague a tragi-comic look.
‘Oh dear, speaking out of turn,’ he said. ‘Charlotte, you did not give us time to outline the rules, my dear. But now you have forced our hand, let me make it clear to you that, when you wish to speak, you must first ask permission. “Please, sir, may I
Naturally, she was nervous – as anyone on their first day in a new job might be – but she was also excited. The lace stocking-tops rubbing together beneath the tight skirt might have been having an effect as well. Stopping to compose herself at the door, she realised that her nipples were pressing against the lacy confines of her bra. She took out her mirror compact, checked that her make-up was just that crucial bit overdone and tarty, and knocked on the door.
‘Enter.’ Both voices, dark and light, in shiver-inducing harmony.
She grasped the handle with both hands and turned it, standing in the doorway for a moment to assess how best to reach their twin desks, set at diagonal angles to each other, without tripping on the carpet fibres. The morning sunlight streamed in through the window, catching the imposing pair, who had stood to receive their new handmaiden, in its radiant beams.
‘Good morning, Charlotte.’ Collins was the first to speak. ‘Are you going to stand in the doorway all day?’
She took a hesitant step forward, but he shook his head and frowned, tutting slightly, making a downward motion with one hand.
‘Hands and knees, Charlotte,’ he instructed.
‘Oh!’ She covered her mouth with her hand, feeling dizzy and giggly. They really were going to continue with this dynamic, even in the office. How … interesting. Wondering if it would be possible to sustain total submission over the course of a working day, Charlotte dropped to her knees, thankful for the embracing plush of the carpet. She moved forward, unable to look her bosses in the eye, moving between chair legs and pot plants until she reached the desk interface, at the apex of which her new colleagues stood, side by side, smiling down at her if she had but known, though she imagined them to be stony-faced.
‘Up,’ said Bryant gently, and she perched up on her knees, back straight and shoulders back, breathing a little unevenly. She felt Bryant’s hand cup her chin and lift her head up so that she was looking up his long torso to the overhang of his head, right into his clear blue eyes.
‘Make-up is good,’ he said, but to Collins, not to her. ‘Nice shade of lipstick. What’s it called, Charlotte?’
‘Harlot.’
They chuckled in unison. ‘How perfectly appropriate,’ approved Collins. ‘Charlotte the harlot. It’s the very shade that always looks so good around a cock. Don’t you think?’
‘I certainly do,’ replied Bryant. ‘Good girl. You may stand, for the rest of the inspection.’
Charlotte rose to her feet, feeling shambling and awkward, her head hanging down over the flapping open collar of her blouse.
‘And such a stylish bra too,’ noted Collins with a vocal smirk.
‘I love a girl who doesn’t match her underwear with her clothes. Dark bras under white shirts …’
‘Visible panty lines are supposed to be such a fashion crime,’ mused Collins. ‘I never understood that. I once followed a girl the length of Oxford Street because she was wearing such an obvious pair of high-cut knickers under a very tight miniskirt. It defined her arse rather wonderfully.’
‘Oh, I wish I’d seen that.’
‘Perhaps we could get Charlotte to do it.’
‘Good idea.’
‘One more button, Charlotte. You look wanton, but today I think I’m in the mood for slutty. No, I’ll do it for you.’
Collins reached out to undo a third pearl button, leaving her cleavage exposed right down to the front-fastening clip of her bra.
‘Do you get many visitors to the office?’ asked Charlotte nervously.
Bryant put a finger to his lips while Collins shook his head, giving his colleague a tragi-comic look.
‘Oh dear, speaking out of turn,’ he said. ‘Charlotte, you did not give us time to outline the rules, my dear. But now you have forced our hand, let me make it clear to you that, when you wish to speak, you must first ask permission. “Please, sir, may I
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