Chapter #3Mortified, and secretarial... by: Mr. George   You find yourself dressed as a very busty secretary. Trying to get your panic under control, afraid you'll faint you slow your breathing. It's a reminder you don't need of your new sex, as you feel the constriction of the new underwear. The thick supporting, restraining band around your ribs, and the straps digging in at your shoulders.
Even the weight of 'the girls' is an unwanted reminder of your new sex. The gentle, teasing friction of your nips in the cups makes you aware of every slight movement. A startled yelp emerges as one of the blouse buttons pops off. A startled scrabbling, as you fight to stop the extra pressure from sending a set from leaving you flashing your new lingerie to the whole office.
https://64.media.tumblr.com/300e8530afaf...
Already, too aware of every male eye on you. Feeling them watching your every move, watching as you bend down. You feel the skirt tightening, constricting over your full rump. Imagining them watching for the gaps between the blouse buttons.
You want to rage at them, to control themselves, that it's all so unfair. Looking for sympathy from the other secretaries. You see some empathy from a couple, but others seem to see you, as flaunting your body, as having deliberately chosen a blouse a size too small. Their contempt, and in some cases envy is clear in their manner.
Feeling alone, vulnerable, and exposed, you've been assigned to a manager. His eyes barely leave your bust, as he talks to you. The automatic contempt he has for you is crystal clear. Obviously, seeing you as a busty bimbo. You want to shout at him, your bust, your body isn't your fault... If anything, it lowers the IQs of those around you. You dismiss that argument, knowing it would be turned against you.
If you're seen as a distraction, you'd be blamed for being distracting. Part of you wants to shock him, and you briefly consider taking another deep, calming breath, seeing if you can pop another button off.
With a shudder, you stop yourself, not wanting to encourage him in any way. With that disturbing thought, your own gaze drifts. You recoil, as you see his pants are bulging quite obscenely. "God sake, can't he control himself..." you think to yourself.  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
| Members who added to this interactive story also contributed to these: |
<<-- Previous · Outline  · Recent Additions © Copyright 2024 Mr. George (UN: rjh-kk at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Wanderer0426 has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work within this interactive story. Poster accepts all responsibility, legal and otherwise, for the content uploaded, submitted to and posted on Writing.Com. |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author