Story: Appropriate For Work

She had to send her boss a photo of what she was going to wear to work today. If he texted back “inappropriate”, she had to change into something else. If she had to get changed more than a few times, she’d be late to work, and have to make up the lost time at the end of the day.

She quickly learned that he wanted her looking a certain level of slutty. In order to get his approval on the first try and be at work on time, she’d often overshoot, dressing far sluttier than he required. Then at work, her boss would draw her outfit to the attention of her coworkers, and they would all laugh at how slutty she looked, and he would emphasise how she *chose* to wear that outfit. And he would take a photo of her in the outfit, and put it on her personnel file as a permanent record. And she would blush deep red and want to crawl into a hole and hide, but at the same time her pussy would get all warm and tingly and happy.

And she’d sit at her desk all day in that ridiculous outfit, blushing every time someone looked at her, wanting to go home, wanting to get changed, wanting to find a quiet corner and explore her surprisingly wet cunt with her fingers until she found those waves of pleasure it could give her, but unable to do any of those things. 

But at the end of the day her boss would call her into his office, and he would tell her to kneel, and the first time he did that she thought he would make her give him a blowjob. But instead, all he would do is pat her on the head like she was a beloved pet, and he would say two words in a special tone of voice that indicated affection and approval, and those words would be: “Good girl.” And he would press an extra $50 bill into her hand and send her home.

And afterward she would sit in her car in the parking lot, thinking about everyone staring at her, thinking about being exposed, thinking about those words – “Good girl” – and she would masturbate so hard she thought she would hurt herself, until she orgasmed so hard she almost blacked out, and she knew – already knew – that the next day she would wear something even sluttier…

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