Dress Code: Gretchen Part I

Back from the Easter Weekend, so getting back into the swing of things. Here's a character from Dress Code you might have heard of earlier. Gretchen.

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Gretchen Miers had run the compliance department with an iron hand. She knew who was the boss and it was here.

But now… She listened to the muzak they had started playing since the new management had  come in, she was worried. The men were just… coming in and letting people know what to do. They way her assistant had looked at her, letting his eyes run over her body, would have once seen him written up on the spot, especially when he’d looked at her top, casually asking if it was comfortable, since it seemed a little right…

Gretchen bit her lip at the memory. She’s almost yelled at him, as his eyes ran over her body, including her top, immaculately tailored to disguise her large breasts, themselves confined by a minimizer bra.

Gretchen wasn’t about to let some young subordinate look at her tits, and she didn’t want people to think she was just a pair of big jugs…

It was hard to ignore them.Even with all of her attempts. She’d been looking at htem yesterday, when she’d prepared for bed, their huge, heavy masses, dark nipples and areolas standing out from her pale flesh, bouncing slightly as she freed them from that uncomfortable bra.

But she…  She didn’t care. She had other issues. That riduculous new dress code, and someone had already told her that she wasn’t “dressing friendly”.

Fuck them. I’m not some fucking fuck-up of an executive like the ones who got demoted to the secretarial pool.  More and more women were going down there, and the executive floors were turning strange. Mostly men in the offices, men making decisions and the only women were the personal assistants.

Not all, and Gretchen was going to… She was going to…

She glanced down at the note:

FROM: HR

TO: Gretchen Miers, Director of   Compliance

RE: College records

We have noted some discrepancies in your resume and your actual academic history. Please come to Human Resources tomorrow at 8:00 AM. This meeting is mandatory and missing it may impact future decisions regarding your position with this company.

She shivered. She’d called her school, but her contacts were gone. Marsha had resigned and come back as a department assistant. She didn’t know why or how, she’d been tenured, but she’d chosen to resign. Something about grading issues…

Was this it? Had she told them that sometimes Gretchen hadn’t worked the way she had. In school… She’d been willing to show off her tits. To flaunt her body so that some stupid football player or college nerd would give her a hand. Even… show off for a professor now and then, when she really needed that “A”.

When she… couldn’t be as smart as the men.

They probably knew. They were going to call her in, make her stand on the carpet in front of them, as they asked her questions and told her what she’d done wrong.  That was why the girls at college were changing jobs.

The men were finally calling them on it. Just like they’d call her on it. She had…

Gretchen turned around and looked at her nude form in the mirror.

“It’s not like they need me for my brains…” she murmured, hefting one meaty tit, running her fingers over her stiffening nipple. Her pussy was warming up.

But she’d have to get in early.  After all, if you were going to ask a man to fix your silly little fuck up, you didn’t want to make him wait. And you needed to be wearing...

What a man wanted.

 TBC