The Dress Code - Sassy Secretary Gets Hers

by Michele Nylons

Copyright© 2012 by Michele Nylons

Fantasy Sex Story: Sassy secretaries are required to abide by a strict dress imposed by an overbearing boss. The dress code includes short skirts, high-heels, nylons and makeup. The dress code means that Vanessa gets more attention than she expected from the male staff who harass her, force into coerced sex acts and eventually two of them corner her late one night in the office and force her into a threesome!

Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   NonConsensual   Reluctant   Rape   Blackmail   Drunk/Drugged   Heterosexual   DomSub   Spanking   Rough   Group Sex   Masturbation   Petting   Exhibitionism   Voyeurism   BBW   Foot Fetish   Leg Fetish   Workplace   .

My name is Vanessa Tan and I work as a secretary for an engineering company that employs about five hundred or so personnel. Specifically I work as the departmental secretary for Sales Support where I make travel arrangements, organise meetings and contractual conferences for about thirty senior engineers, managers and a director. We are the face of the company, and as such, there is a dress code we must adhere to.

Last Week - The New Dress Code

Office personnel are required to dress formally because of our high profile and the requirement to deal with our contractors, customers and the public. Men are required to wear a suit and tie and women are required to wear appropriate business attire. There are only four other women in my department and we pretty much wear what we like as long as we stay within the general guidelines of the policy. This all changed a few when Mike Harris assumed the Directorship of sales and marketing.

One of the first things he did was put out a memo redefining the dress code. The memo basically reiterated the firm's policy regarding the dress code for office staff, but went on to provide specific instructions regarding what was considered appropriate attire.

Not much changed for male employees, just a little tightening of the rules. For instance: suit jackets could be relaxed but were to be worn at all times when dealing with the public or customers, ties were to be worn at all times, shoes were to be black leather and polished, hair was to be neatly trimmed, and so on.

For women however the level of detail for was extremely specific and raised some consternation among the female office staff. In particular the memo specified that women were to be: 'appropriately coiffured and cosmetics were to be worn at all times, ' 'business suits with skirt and jacket combination are to be worn; pantsuits are not acceptable office attire!' 'shoes are to be of the pump or sandal variety, with a heel of not less that three inches, ' and 'hosiery is to be worn at all times and is to be sheer and no more than twenty-five denier; opaque hosiery and heavy-yarned tights are expressly forbidden!' The memo went on: 'hems of skirts are to rest above the knee when standing; and hosiery with snags or runners is to be replaced immediately."

When the memo was circulated, the women in my department called a meeting in the staff lounge and voiced their anger at the dress policy. To be fair, most of the women dressed pretty much in accordance with the new policy anyway but they were annoyed at the specifics being levelled at them and most wanted to wear pantsuits and opaque tights in winter. They appointed me the spokesperson and sent me off to see Mr Harris to represent their complaints. Of course the twenty or so men who worked in the office had already had good laugh at our expense and even though they were not too happy with their revised dress code, they realised it was nowhere near as stringent as ours.

"Good luck Vanessa," Steve Bouvier smiled over the top of his computer screen.

I gave him the finger as I strove down the aisle to Mr Harris' office. Steve was nice enough guy but he well known as the office lecher. He took every opportunity he could to look down a blouse or up a skirt and was known to make the occasional inappropriate remark to the female staff.

I knocked on the door to Mike Harris' office.

"Come," he barked through the closed door.

I entered the office and closed the door behind me. Mike Harris had his head buried in a large file and waved at the chair in front of his desk. I sat down and studied him while I waited for him to address me. We had met Mike briefly when he first joined the firm but this was the first time I had been alone with him. He was in his forties and quite handsome, he was of slim build and had dark hair with a few wisps of grey streaked through it. He was wearing an Armani suit, with a crisp white shirt, his jacket hung on a hanger on the wall. He finally looked up and addressed me.

"Ms Tan, why do I have the pleasure of your company this afternoon?" he gave me a beaming smile.

I smiled back and gave him a precis of our complaint; that we thought the dress code he had implemented was far too draconian. He just sat there and nodded and smiled patiently while I vented.

"Finished?" he said when I finally stopped talking.

"Yes," I stared at him somewhat defiantly.

"You know why I've been given the Directorship of Sales and Marketing don't you?" he started.

"Because I'm good at what I do; I increased sales by twenty-five percent at my last firm."

"One of the reasons I'm so good at what I do is because I micro-manage every facet of my department," he went on.

"Sales staff are the public face of this firm and I will decide how they present themselves to the public. If you and the rest of the female staff are not happy with the revised dress code there are plenty of women out there who will take your jobs. We are in a recession if you haven't noticed!" he finished.

I was flabbergasted! I had never been spoken to so forcefully before. I was quite speechless and sat there dumbfounded. Mr Harris had returned to his report and was ignoring me.

"Is that it? Is that what I'm to take back to the staff?" I said incredulously.

"Oh sorry; are you still here?" he looked up again.

"Erm, tell all the staff that the new dress code starts Monday. Everyone gets one warning; then if they break the dress code a second time I will consider dismissal!" he went back to perusing his report.

I was shaking with anger but knew that to continue to argue would be pointless. I stood up to leave and was about to do so when he addressed me again.

"Ms Tan?"

I was halfway to the door and turned around.

"I expect you to lead by example as my senior Department secretary," he said.

"What on earth do you mean!" I crossed my arms and stared at him defiantly.

"Well let's start from the top and work down," he began.

This is probably as good a time as any to describe myself. I'm in my early thirties and of Asian descent, I'm about five-ten, medium-slim build, with long black hair which I usually wear up in a bun at work. I have small pert breasts but very long legs which are by far my best asset. I would describe myself as attractive and tend not to wear a lot of makeup as I have good skin and well defined facial features.

I was wearing a navy-blue skirt, white cotton blouse and cheap generic-brand taupe pantyhose. I had worn black, flat-soled shoes to work for comfort that day.

"Please; go on!" I said indignantly.

"Well you have lovely hair but it should be combed out and worn on your shoulders; your bangs are fine but need to be trimmed so we can see your delightful eyes better."

"You have a pretty face for a woman your age but you need to wear more makeup. Some eyeliner, mascara and eyeshadow to accentuate your lovely almond eyes, some rouge on your well-defined cheeks, and some nice red lipstick will help your emphasise your sensuous lips."

"Cotton blouses are for schoolgirls! A nice satin, silk, or rayon blouse will help enhance your small breasts but emphasise your narrow waist. Wear a tight fitting jacket over the blouse."

"That skirt looks ok; it shows off your hips and buttocks to advantage but it is way too long and those horrible flats have to go," he finished and gave me a smug grin.

I was fuming!

"Too long! My skirt is too long!" I seethed.

"Yes now lift the hem for me please," he said.

"What???" I hissed.

"For demonstration purposes; let me show you something," he smiled.

I couldn't believe that I acquiesced to his request; it must have been the shock but I found myself slowly raising the hem of my skirt. I stopped at the knees.

"A little higher please," Mike went on.

I lifted my skirt about four inches above my knees and stopped.

"Lovely well-defined legs. Slim ankles, nice calves and knees, and just a hint of what I expect are magnificent thighs. All ruined by your cheap hosiery by the way," he said.

"That is the longest I expect your hem of your skirt to be worn and buy some decent hosiery; I recommend Hanes, L'eggs or Donna Karan sheer-to-the waist pantyhose in flesh tones; they will show off your legs splendidly!" he beamed.

I dropped the hem of my skirt and looked at him defiantly.

"I'm going down to the Personnel Department to lodge a complaint as soon as I leave this office!" I bellowed.

"Feel free Ms Tan. You should be aware that the Personnel and Legal Departments have both reviewed my memo regarding the dress code and are in full agreement that it meets the firm's charter and rules and regulations for employees," he stated smugly.

"Now you can either comply with my directions or you can proceed to Personnel to pick up your last pay check," he bent his head back to his report indicating that I was dismissed.

I fumed my way back to the staff lounge and reported to my fellow female colleagues that I was sorry but they had no choice; they either capitulated and complied with new dress code or looked for employment elsewhere. I did not mention the dressing down that I had personally received at the hands of Mr Harris; I was too embarrassed!

The women squawked and whined for a while but they knew that jobs were scarce and that we were all in well paid positions and that our wages were well above what every other firm was paying. Eventually we all settled down and were ready to proceed back to work.

"At least we can take some comfort in knowing that the guys have a strict dress code too!" I tried to console them.

Just then Mike Harris popped his head around the doorway.

"Oh there you are Ms Tan," he smiled.

"Please advise the female staff in your department that they will be receiving an increase of twenty-five dollars a week to offset any costs associated with purchases they may have to make to meet the requirements of the new dress code," he winked at me and pulled his head away.

I was dumbfounded as I heard his footsteps disappearing down the hall. The rest of the women were beaming and cackling with the news of the new allowances but I was a little perturbed by these recent events. I recalled how vulnerable I felt in Mr Harris' office, standing there with my skirt hiked up while he criticised my dress and grooming. What was even more disturbing was that I could feel that I had become a little wet down there!

Monday – My New Life Begins

I had been to Macy's over the weekend and spent a considerable amount of money in order to obtain a wardrobe, accessories and makeup that would meet the new dress code. It would take me quite a few weeks to recover the money that I had spent at the rate of $25 per week!

I had to Google 'denier' to find out what Mr Harris meant by 'twenty-five denier pantyhose'. It turns out that the lower the denier, the sheerer the hose! So armed with my new found knowledge I made the appropriate purchases including several pairs of Donna Karan Nudes 20 denier pantyhose. It still puzzled me that a man like Mr Harris would dictate how sheer a woman's hosiery was to be! The man sure had weird interests!

I carefully checked myself out in the full-length mirror before I left for work. My makeup was a lot heavier than usual; black eyeliner, mascara and pink and green eyeshadow highlighted my brown eyes. My cheeks were rouged, my lips painted with plum-red lipstick, silver drop earrings glistened though the nape of my jet-black hair which cascaded over my shoulders. A silver choker hung around my elegant neck; my pert breasts swelled the décolletage of my mauve satin blouse and pinstriped navy-blue jacket; the matching skirt clung to my thighs and buttocks. A shapely, nylon-clad thigh peeked through the kick-pleat tailored into the side of my skirt; my legs encased in Donna Karan sheer-to-the waist pantyhose. My delicate feet were shod in black four-inch high-heels and red nailpolished toenails peeked out of my peep-toe pumps, encased in gauzy reinforced nylon.

I looked stunning if I do say so myself!

I had debated whether to wear my panties over or under my hose; whenever I wore the cheap hose I normally bought I just pulled them up over my boring cotton panties but the elegant, sheer-to-the waist gusset of the expensive hosiery I had purchased felt so nice against my skin I decided to wear my pantyhose against my hairless quim and I pulled a pair of red satin panties over them for modesty. The panties and hose felt absolutely scrumptious on my recently shaven skin.

When I had opened the packet of expensive pantyhose I was amazed at the exquisite sensuality of the diaphanous spandex-nylon blend and decided that I had to shave my legs to do them justice. When I got to the tops of my thighs with my lady-shaver I just kept going and gave myself a Brazilian. My quim looked so different, girl-like and smooth, I loved the look and feel of my shaven pussy. The new dress code was certainly making me change more than just my wardrobe!

When I arrived at work I was acutely aware of the men staring at me and looking me up and down. The other office girls had dressed in accordance with the new dress code but non of them had taken it to the extent that I had, their jaws dropped when I strutted into the office.

It took about ten minutes before the men started hanging around my desk; led of course by the head lecher, Steve Bouvier.

"Oops! Dropped my pen!" he made a sham of dropping his pen and getting down on the floor to retrieve it.

I decided to tease him and when his head was under my desk I deliberately opened my legs slightly so he could see up my skirt. When he got back to his feet his face was flushed and I could see a bulge in the front of his trousers.

"Ok Steve; you've had your peek; now fuck off while I do some work," I chided him whilst dangling a high-heel seductively from my foot.

Along with my new wardrobe and newfound sensuality it seemed I'd also developed a bit of an attitude.

Mr Harris poked his head out of his office door and looked my way.

"Bouvier; take your band of cronies way from Ms Tan's desk and get to work or you will all be finding new employment!" he declared.

"Ms Tan; my office now please!" he summoned.

I walked over to Mr Harris' office, my high-heels and tight skirt causing my buttocks to roll sensuously. I knew that every man in the office had his eyes glued to my ass and I found it quite empowering. Additionally I could feel my quim beginning to moisten.

"You seem to have taken to the new dress code quite suitably Ms Tan, considering all the pushback you gave me last week," he said sternly.

I simply smiled back at him.

"I must say you look quite elegant and you are a perfect example of how I want the personnel employed by this company to project themselves," he went on.

"Thank you," I smiled back.

I was standing in front of his desk with my hands on my hips and one foot placed before the other. The hem of my skirt was tight against my thighs; my sheer hose glistened under the harsh fluorescent light.

"I'm not so sure about the kick-pleat in that skirt though? It's one thing to show a nice bit of leg but another to approach the bounds of impropriety," he huffed but his eyes never left my legs.

My nylon-encased leg was framed by the kick-pleat of my navy-blue skirt; my leg was visible right up to the top of my thigh.

"Perhaps you are right Mr Harris; but don't you think the dark material of my skirt contrasts magnificently with my nearly-nude hosiery. I must say that these Donna Karan sheer-to-the waist pantyhose are very expensive and it would be shame not to show them off," I continued to smile at him.

"Erm, well yes, I suppose so ... Donna Karan eh? I'm impressed Ms Tan," he began to blush.

I decided to see how far I could push him; it was quite amusing having a tyrant like Mr Harris embarrassed. I slid the hem of my skirt up my thighs until my red satin panties just came into view.

"As you can see; they are sheer-to-the waist; the very best," I beamed at him and ran my tongue along my red-lipsticked lips.

"Yes ... er ... very nice indeed," he stammered.

There was a huge bulge tenting the front of his trousers and he tried to cover it with his jacket but it was too short.

"That will be all Ms Tan," he said; the sweat was visible on his brow.

I deliberately rolled my hips and swayed my ass from side to side as I walked out of Mr Harris' office; I had a brilliant smile on my face.

"What are you so happy about?" Steve Bouvier was lurking near my desk.

"Never mind! You heard Mr Harris get back to work!" I chided him, but the smile on my face never wavered.

I spent the rest of the day fighting off the men in the office who continued to pester me in order to look at my legs, up my skirt or to ogle my breasts. I have to say I found it quite arousing having all the men in the office attracted to me and when I got home I found the gusset of my hose and panties were soaked with vaginal juices. For the first time in a long while I rubbed out a quick orgasm, and later that night I fingered myself to another as I imagined the men in the office wanking their hard cocks while they looked at my legs.

Tuesday – Things Heat Up

I wore the same suit to work today but this time with a white nylon blouse. I was getting more and more daring and today I decided to forgo wearing panties; just the sheer nylon gusset of my pantyhose covered my bare sex

Steve Bouvier hung around my desk most of the morning and I tormented him by allowing the split in my skirt to open right up or deliberately opening my legs so he could see up my skirt. I'm not sure if he could detect that I was not wearing panties but he certainly went around the office all day with a huge boner. By lunchtime there was wet patch on the front of his trousers.

I went off to lunch with the girls and we all had a laugh about how pathetic Steve was. The other girls were now imitating my dress style, they all wore short tight skirts, sheer hose and high-heels. Their makeup was much more elaborate and they too were having to fight off the pesky men in the office who constantly hovered around their desks.

"I love the fact that those guys just can't seem to take their eyes off my legs, ass and tits!" one of the more junior girls giggled.

"And just about every guy in the firm is walking around with an erection!" Mrs Munner, the eldest of the secretaries proclaimed.

"Here's to the new dress code!" one of the girls raised her glass of Coke and we all clinked our glasses.

Later that afternoon the office had quietened down; the men couldn't spend all day ogling the secretaries and secretaries couldn't spend all day fighting off the men. There was still work to be done!

I was called into a project conference with a group of engineers and some guys from the sales department and I was busy taking notes when suddenly Steve Bouvier, who was dictating, dropped the plastic folder that held his project material into my lap. I wasn't sure if it was accidental or not but when he retrieved it, the edge of the folder hooked onto the nylon material of my pantyhose I was wearing and caused a run.

"Damn!" I hissed.

"Sorry Vanessa," he apologised.

"That completes the brief anyway; let's get those minutes typed up and distributed ASAP please," he said.

I was sitting with my legs crossed and I unfolded my legs and traced the runner with a red nailpolished finger. Every eye in the room was glued to my legs.

"Shit! I'll have to change my pantyhose!" I whined and left the room with all eyes on my ass.

I knew that my new pantyhose were so very sheer that it was quite possible that I would get a runner in them at some stage. Taking this eventuality into account I had bought a spare pair of pantyhose to work and put them in the bottom drawer of my desk.

I left my notepad on my desk and grabbed the fresh pair of pantyhose from the bottom drawer of my desk and went to the ladies to change. I slid out of my laddered hose and slipped my feet into the new pantyhose. When I pulled the pantyhose tight around my crotch I felt a slippery and slimy secretion smear my pussy lips and I shuddered.

I was sure my desk drawers were always locked and secured before I left my work station and I couldn't understand what might have spilled on my pantyhose. I couldn't put the runner pantyhose back on so I had to endure the ooze against my tender quim. I lifted my skirt and examined the wet patch in the crotch of my hose. It was a silvery stain and I rubbed a finger in it and bought to my nose.

The unmistakeable musky smell of semen assaulted my senses!

"Fuck! Fucking pigs!" I was acutely aware that one of the men in the office had masturbated into my pantyhose.

"Fuck it!" I smoothed out the hem of my skirt and left the cubicle and washed my hands.

I would have to endure spending the afternoon wearing come-stained nylons; an anonymous donor's sperm smeared on my cunt.

But I was wrong! It turned out not to be an ordeal. The more I thought about it, the hotter I got. I had aroused a man to the point where he couldn't help himself but to break into my drawers and wank off into my nylons! Such power! Such sensuality!

My cunt began to moisten and my juices flowed and commingled with the cooling semen in my crotch. I started to blush as my body began to tingle with lust. I couldn't help myself! I rushed back to the ladies, locked myself into a cubicle and hiked up my skirt.

My fingers found my clitoris through the semen-soaked pantyhose and I barely touched it when an enormous orgasm wracked my body.

"OOOOOhhhhhhh!" I groaned and I pushed the knuckles of my free hand into my mouth to stifle my lust-filled cries.

I heard the door to the ladies open but my orgasm was still raging.

"OOOOhhhhh Shiiiit!," I moaned and drummed my heels on the floor.

After a minute or two I regained my composure smoothed out my nylons and straightened my skirt and left the cubicle. Mrs Munner was fixing her makeup in the mirror over the sink. I sidled up next to her and began to wash my hands. She gave me wry grin.

"I'd recognise those sounds anywhere dear and you're still a little flushed. A little dab of perfume under your skirt will cover the scent of your sex too," she said matter-of-factly looking at me in the mirror.

"I don't know what you had for lunch but I'm having the same tomorrow!" she grinned.

I smiled back at her and dried my hands and left the ladies room and returned to my workstation. Needless to say Steve Bouvier was hanging around but I was in no mood to play games now that my lust was sated.

"Got those minutes ready yet?" he beamed, but his eyes were locked on my crotch.

"No! I'll call you when they're ready!" I snapped back at him.

"Ok, ok," he apologised.

"Just thought I'd check. By the way; you should lock your desk drawers when you go out to lunch. You never know who might go it there and what they might do," he grinned evilly.

My face burned a deep scarlet as he walked away.

"Cheeky bastard!" I said under my breath.

I seethed for most of the afternoon but after a while my temper abated and I was once again acutely aware that my pussy was soaked in a strange man's semen now mingled with my own cunt juices. My quim was soaked by the time I got home and once again I couldn't wait to stroke myself to another climax. This time I put the pantyhose to my nose and inhaled the musky semen smell; when I came I sucked the man-juice from the crotch of my hose.

Wednesday – The Plot Thickens

I was wearing a bone-white business suit; the skirt riding high on my thighs and the jacket tight around my waist and decolletage. Underneath the jacket I wore a blue silk blouse. My legs were clad in smoky-grey gossamer-thin pantyhose and I was wearing four-inch high-heeled white pumps. My makeup was heavy and my gold jewellery rattled when I walked. I was surrounded by a miasma of perfume.

I wore no panties!

I had been thinking about what to do about Steve Bouvier. The guy was a lecher, that's for sure but I had to admit that I had rubbed my pussy sore last night sniffing and licking my come-soaked nylons and I was ninety-nine percent sure Steve was the culprit.

As I strutted down the office I saw him sitting at his workstation and I detoured from my path to execute my plan. I strutted past his desk and he greeted me with a huge grin.

"Morning Vanessa," he beamed.

"Morning Steve," I smiled back and without breaking stride I dropped a little gift-wrapped package in his lap.

I sat down at my desk and watched him with some amusement. He ripped open the package and I saw the puzzled look on his face as he looked inside the little box. He lifted the item out and held it up and then I saw his face immediately become filled with lust.

He was holding up the laddered pantyhose I had worn yesterday. A little note was pinned to the waistband.

'These are no longer any use to me; maybe you can use them.'

'PS they haven't been washed!' It read.

Steve looked shocked. Then he suddenly realised that he was holding up a pair of pantyhose in the middle of the office and quickly snatched them away. Too late!

"My office please Mr Bouvier," Mike Harris called from his office door.

I don't know what went on in that office but when Mr Bouvier came out of that office he was cowered and flushed.

"Thanks for the present," he whispered as he strode past my desk on the way to his own.

"Vanessa; come here please," Mr Harris called.

Vanessa now? Not Ms Tan? I ruminated as I made my way to his office.

I closed the door behind me and sat down in front of his desk without invitation.

"By all means sit," he said sarcastically.

"Look here Vanessa; I know the new dress code has got some of the chaps heated up a little bit but as the senior secretary I expect you to lead by example; not throw fuel on the fire. Understood?" he said severely.

"Understood," I replied, my mouth slightly open as I ran my tongue over my teeth.

"Carry on," he said dismissively.

"Love the suit by the way; those grey nylons look great with it," he said just as I got to the door.

I kept my back to him and reached around and pulled up my skirt exposing my silken-clad buttocks.

"Sheer-to-the-waist; glad you like them," I said matter-of-factly and pulled down my skirt and left his office.

Later that afternoon I received two emails. The one from Mr Harris read: 'I'm the one who pays your clothing allowance; in future all discarded underwear is to be provided to me!'

The one from Steve Bouvier read: 'Thanks for the present. I'm sure it will be very useful.'

I had a huge grin on my face all the way home.

Thursday – My Gift Is Returned

Once again I doubled up on my bone-white business suit but this time I wore a red satin blouse underneath and white pantyhose; no panties of course. I left very early for work as I had some catching up to do. I was hoping to have the office to myself. I was wolf-whistled by construction workers at least three times on the way to work and I was feeling good when I got there.

Sitting on my desk was the same little gift box I had given to Steve yesterday. I opened it up and there were my Nude pantyhose neatly folded inside the box. The legs of the nylons were stained with silver trails and a puddle of warm white semen was pooled in the crotch. Steve had obviously wanked away all night with my laddered hose judging by the silvery stains on the legs of the pantyhose and he must have masturbated into the hose very recently judging by the warm gobbet of semen slowly soaking into the crotch.

I looked around expecting to see Steve watching me; he must have been here recently as the semen was still warm, but there was no sign of him.

My pussy began to become very moist. I looked around, but the office was nearly deserted; there was no one else at work in my section. Then I noticed a small flash drive tucked under one of the toes of the pantyhose. A little note attached said: 'play me'.

I put the flash drive in my computer and opened the file that said: 'for the love of Vanessa's sexy legs.wmv'.

My computer screen filled with the image of Steve Bouvier. He was lying on his bed, at home I guess, and was naked except for my Nude pantyhose. A huge boner tented the crotch of the pantyhose and he was stroking his nylon-encased member frantically. Suddenly the nylon that was stretched taut over Steve's throbbing erection disgorged a puddle of hot white semen. My cunt began instantly dripping!

The scene changed and this time Steve had one of the legs of the pantyhose wrapped around his cock as he stroked it whilst looking down at a photograph. Steve smiled into the camera and waved then he lifted the eight-by-ten glossy and I could see it was a picture of me. It must have been taken yesterday because I was dressed in my white suit. I was sitting at my workstation with my feet up on the desk; my long legs, clad in sheer hose were on display as my skirt had ridden up to my waist. My white high-heels dangled from my feet.

I remembered being lost in thought yesterday and one of the few bad habits I have is to place my feet on my desk when I'm pondering something. Not really an issue when I'm wearing pantsuits, but now that the new dress code is in force, it is quite an immodest pose.

Steve must have taken the picture with the camera in his mobile phone.

On the screen his face screwed up in ecstasy and he sprayed gobbets of semen all over my picture. He rubbed his issue all over my picture with his hose-clad cock as he continued to ejaculate.

I snatched the flash drive out of the port on my PC and fumbled my laptop out of the middle drawer of my desk. I snatched up the little box off my desk and ran to the ladies. I locked the entry door and then set up the laptop on the bench under the vanity mirror. I was crossing and uncrossing my legs in anticipation while the little laptop computer booted up. I shucked out of my skirt and hung it up behind a cubicle door and hurriedly kicked off my heels and pulled down my pantyhose and kicked them away. I slammed the flash drive into the port on the laptop and played the wmv file.

I stared at the screen in rapture as I rubbed the come-stained hose on my shaven cunt and came immediately the warm semen touched my sensitive slit. I didn't stop. I kept stroking with the come-stained hose; pushing the silky nylon onto my sensitive clitoris until I invoked a second orgasm. I still didn't stop. I stepped into the semen-soaked pantyhose; the slinky feel of Steve's warm semen on my shaved pussy clad in the diaphanous garment was enough to bring me to the brink again.

"OOOOOOOOOOhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!! Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!!!!" I screamed as I rubbed out my third orgasm.

I came at exactly the same time as Steve filled my pantyhose with his come on the laptop screen.

I gasped and shuddered and fell to my knees. My whole body was shaking.

Then I heard a frantic knocking on the ladies room door.

"Vanessa! Vanessa! Vanessa! I know you're in there let me in or someone will come to investigate the fracas," Steve shouted through the door.

I staggered to my feet and pulled on my skirt, stepped into my heels, and let him in, locking the door behind him.

"What the fuck do you want?" I gasped, still recovering from my orgasms.

"I want what you just had," he grinned.

Suddenly it dawned on me what he wanted. I grimaced and hiked up my skirt and shucked off my nylons and threw the semen-stained pantyhose at him.

"Here! Help yourself; I think some of my juices are still fresh. You can sniff them, suck them, or do whatever you want with them. I'm leaving!" I said as I began to pull on my clean white pantyhose.

"No you're not! You're giving me a quick handjob! What the fuck do you think this has all been about?" he snarled.

"I'm leaving!" I snapped back, straightening my hose and stepping into my pumps.

"Like fuck Vanessa! Look up there!" he pointed to a small object sitting on the edge of the toilet cubicle stall.

I nearly fainted when I saw what it was. A miniature camera! I tried to make a dash for it but I had no chance in my high-heels and tight skirt. Steve snatched the small camera down from its perch and grinned as he showed me the tiny screen. The picture was small but it was unmistakably a well-built oriental lady masturbating with a pair of semen-sodden pantyhose.

"Fuck!" I bellowed.

"No time for that; just give me the handjob!" Steve sniggered.

He'd already dropped his pants and underwear and his hard cock was standing to attention. He draped the come and pussy-juice soaked pantyhose over his cock and took my hand in his.

"This won't take long," he smiled.

I was disgusted by what he was forcing me to do but there was nothing I could do about it right now. He had video of me frigging in the office bathroom and pretty soon the rest of the staff would be arriving.

I didn't resist as he led my hand down to his crotch. My fingers found his hard flesh encased in the gossamer hosiery. I wrapped them loosely around his shaft and began to stroke it.

"OOOhhh yeah Vanessa; nice and slow," he groaned.

I had no intention of taking it slow!

I gripped his hard cock and slid my fingers over his purple glans and squeezed. Steve gasped as I rubbed the silky soft nylon on his cock. I gathered the other leg of the pantyhose and slipped my other hand inside them and raked his scrotum with my fingernails. I thought he was going to faint.

"OOOHHHhhhhh!!! Jesus god I'm so fucking close Vanessa!" he hissed, his whole body gyrating with pleasure.

I gripped his cock tightly and began to vigorously stroke his nylon-clad appendage whilst gently squeezing his scrotum with my pantyhose-gloved hand. I think I might have got to six strokes before my fingers filled with hot sticky seed.

"OOOOhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!! I'm coooooommmmmmiiiinnnggg!" he screeched as his cock pulsed and quivered in my fingers, unloading his spend into the silky hose and onto my hand.

I continued to milk him of his seed until his penis began to become flaccid, then I cleaned him up with the come-soaked pantyhose. I stuffed the semen-sodden garment into his suit pocket.

"Here! A present from me. Enjoy it because we are never doing this again!" I turned my back to him and washed my hands.

I dried them with paper towels while Steve put himself away and pulled up his pants. I strutted to the door, unlocked it and stepped outside and walked straight into Mr Harris who was carrying his briefcase and had obviously just arrived at the office.

"Vanessa wait!" Steve Bouvier shot out of the ladies bathroom; only to realise, too late, that the boss was right there.

"My office Mr Bouvier!" Mike Harris said defiantly.

"There better be a damn good reason for this indiscretion!" he snarled.

Steve blushed and looked at the floor. Mr Harris looked at me and surprisingly he beamed a smile at me.

"Still love that suit Vanessa; and the red satin blouse and white nylons set it off a treat!" he smiled at me and walked off to his office.

Steve Bouvier was in Mike Harris' office for nearly an hour and when he came out he went straight to his workstation and didn't bother me for the rest of the day. I felt a little sorry for him; but only a little. The creep had made me masturbate him and he still had the incriminating video of me. By the end of the day I was glad to be going home.

"Plan to work late tomorrow Vanessa," Mike Harris called from his office door.

"Sales strategy conference starting at five. Order in some food and drink. It's going to be long one," he said wearily.

No one liked working back on Fridays but I knew better than to complain. I phoned the catering company we used and organised horsderves, coffee, and sodas for five o'clock on Friday.

"And throw in a case of beer on ice and two bottles of white wine. What the hell it's Friday!" I chuckled into the phone.

Friday – Panty Pops

Today I wore the last of the three outfits I had bought the previous weekend. It was a navy-blue business suit; very tight fitting so I had to wear a black nylon half-slip under it to stop it chafing my nylons. The skirt was the shortest of all of them and the hem rested a good six inches above my knees when standing and rode up higher when I sat. There was a kick-pleat in the back of the skirt and initially I thought it might be too much and the opening might actually expose my ass. It turned out that the half-slip hid the tops of my thighs but you could still make out the start of the curve of my buttocks if the pleat opened wide. The slip felt so sexy against my sheer hose.

"The boys will love this!" I chuckled to myself as I checked myself out in the mirror.

I was wearing a cerise satin blouse that conveniently matched my lipstick and nailpolish. I even managed to buy a pair of burgundy high-heel pumps to complete the outfit. The heels were four-inches and they took a bit of getting used to. My makeup was very heavy; lots of black mascara and eyeliner, rouged cheeks and smoky eyeshadow. I was wearing two-coat lipstick that left a high sheen on my lips. I accessorised myself with lots of silver jewellery, necklace, bracelets, rings and drop earings that contrasted magnificently with my glossy jet-black, hair which was combed out straight. My bangs rested on my well-defined eyebrows and the nape rested on shoulders.

I debated which pantyhose would look the best with my outfit and decided in the end to go with the Donna Karan Nudes 20 denier pantyhose which looked so magnificent on my long legs.

Once again, panties were not part of my wardrobe.

"You look fucking hot Vanessa Tan!" I said to myself as I made some final adjustments to my attire, sprayed myself liberally with perfume, and headed out the door to work.

Everybody was too busy in the office that day to get up to any shenanigans; preparing for the afternoon sales strategy conference took up everyone's time. I have to admit I was a little disappointed that I didn't attract the usual ensemble of males who had been loitering around my workstation and pestering me all week; although I did receive many favourable glances. We even worked through lunch and by the time five o'clock finally arrived everyone was relieved. We could get the conference over with and enjoy the weekend.

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