The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Journal — Week 2

What a strange day. But overall a great day, even if I felt unsure at times.

I arrived at work this morning extremely eager to see what clothes Mr. Wilson purchased for me. New outfits certainly interested me more than the tedious work duties. A little unlike me, but I almost squealed with excitement when he brought in some bags of clothes and needed to bite my tongue to keep some decorum.

Mr. Wilson suggested I try on an outfit straight away. I was about to rush off the ladies room, when he suggested I change in my office. He would stand outside the door to make sure nobody disturbed me.

I felt unsure at first, it seemed strange to change there, but he pointed out how my office actually provides more privacy than a stall in a shared toilet. That made sense.

So I quickly undressed to my underwear. Oh, it felt strange undressing in my office with my boss standing at the door. His back towards me, thankfully. Though I must admit that for a moment my imagination pictured what it might be like if he turned to watch me change clothes. Sort of a little fantasy daydream, I suppose. That thought both embarrassed me and sent a little frisson of excitement through me.

Anyway, I quickly pulled on the blouse. The thin, sheer material looked a lot more see-through than I am accustomed, but beautifully made and a fashionable cut—Mr. Wilson shows taste, give him that. I did wonder if he solicited advice from Alison since the blouse happened to look quite similar to the ones she wears.

However the skirt hung much shorter than expected. It ended very far above my knee, actually up at my upper thighs. Only a few inches hung from waistline to bottom edge. I thought maybe he made a mistake. Surely I could not wear a skirt that short around the office. But it did bear a fashionable label and the quality certainly looked good.

I tugged the skirt down my hips as low as possible to help it cover more of my thighs and then told Mr. Wilson I looked decent—even though I did not feel particularly decent. I hardly wear skirts, let alone miniskirts, so I definitely felt a bit uncomfortable.

Mr. Wilson told me I looked great and he was glad the clothes fit. I did express my concern that maybe the skirt hung too short, but he soon disabused me of that notion and explained how short skirts are trending for female executives. That made me feel better.

Then I remembered what Alison wears around the office, so I guess he is right. Successful young female executives do indeed wear short skirts. So I agreed with him and he seemed pleased that I made the connection.

We sat down for a chat. Well, mostly he talked and I listened while he explained the post-feminist trend. Back when women did not get many opportunities we needed the feminist movement to advance and advocate women’s rights. Part of that meant wearing unfeminine clothing. This reminded me of my lectures at university which clearly remained stuck in the feminist era.

However, he continued, now that women get treated equally at work, we no longer need to worry about sexist and chauvinistic comments, so we can dress however we like. Further, the most powerful women now dress in feminine clothing to demonstrate and prove they succeeded and moved beyond the need for feminists. After all, a man can wear what he wants to the office so in an equal society a woman can wear whatever she wants too.

I had not realized any of this. Thank god I listened to Mr. Wilson, otherwise I would have continued on stuck in the outdated dress code of the feminist era. Surely though, since I am a smart girl, I would have worked it out. But it is much easier with a wonderful mentor like Mr. Wilson.

If I want to make it in this dog-eat-dog world, then I must get used to things like this. So even though I felt quite uncomfortable and a little embarrassed in my sheer top and micro miniskirt, I soldiered on. I must demonstrate this sort of attitude to make it to the top.

And honestly, dressed like an executive, I felt like an executive. Mr. Wilson told me just how professional I looked and that put a spring in my step. The rest of the day flew by and I did not mind working through invoices and receipts in the slightest.

I did feel a little uncomfortable at first since, when I sat behind my desk, my new skirt rode up and it felt like I did not have much material under my bottom. After a while though I grew accustomed to it, telling myself it was just something I must learn to tolerate.

While sitting there nearly exposed, I actually felt a touch of excitement. Not sure why exactly—I guess maybe from the idea of the responsibility soon to come my way.

Since my job is rather easy, it did not take a lot of mental capacity and my mind drifted off a few times. Oddly I kept re-imagining the daydream from earlier; my mind kept replaying the fantasy of undressing in front of Mr. Wilson.

I do not know why that thought kept coming to mind, but I found the idea quite electrifying. Just a harmless little daydream but it stuck with me all day.

At five-thirty, about to go home, I felt surprised and embarrassed to realize that during the afternoon my skirt had rode up further and essentially bunched way up around my waist. Engrossed in my work and in my daydreaming, I had failed to notice. Oh well.

When I arrived home this evening I tried on all the clothes Mr. Wilson bought me. Five blouses and five skirts. They all looked beautiful. All of them cut in a similar style but each a different color. While I modeled the outfits in front of my mirror, I imagined standing in front of my employees of the future as their managing director. It felt exciting.

The expensive-looking blouses are all cut from thin, silky, translucent, sheer fabric that fit snug, felt smooth, and made me look great. But I still found the skirts far too short. Practically nothing at all, just a short strip of cloth flaring around my waist.

Looking in the mirror, I discovered my extremely brief skirts did not hang down far enough to cover my butt decently. I skootched the waistband down lower to make the skirt hang down further, but the bottom hem just did not reach low enough.

I have a rather curvy bottom. When I twisted and looked over my shoulder at my backside in the mirror, I saw the bottom curve of my buttocks showed beneath the super-short skirt.

So I tugged the skirt way down, as low as feasible. That seemed to help a little, though not completely. Also, it felt a bit odd to wear the waistband so low around my wide hips.

However I knew I must get used to my new skirts in order to portray myself like the executive I want to become. So I reminded myself to make sure in the future to carefully wear them low on my hips to protect my modesty. Alison manages it so surely I can too.

Getting used to my new skirts now and I love them. At first I stayed cautious, continually making sure to position the waistband low down around my wide hips, so the hem hung lower, to cover more of my butt.

But constantly fussing with them became a hassle, since my skirts tended to ride up, the natural position for the belt being way up around the narrow of my skinny waist. And it turned out I was acting overcautious, since nobody said anything the couple times I forgot to tug them down.

I realized my skirts must not reveal anything improper, so I stopped fussing with them all the time and let them ride high which feels much more comfortable.

Anyway, these new skirts make me look great—Mr. Wilson complimented me quite a few times this week.

However, I still find it difficult to sit in a lady-like manner while wearing a skirt. Whenever I sit down, it rides up until bunched way up around my waist. Fortunately my secluded little office is tucked away in a corner and a modesty panel covers the front of my desk. Alison must deal with her skirt riding up whenever she sits, so I can too.

Though it seems Alison left the company. Mr. Wilson explained that a larger company offered her a position she just could not refuse and while he felt sad to see her go, he did not want to hold back her career.

A shame I never found any chances to talk with her about what it is like being a female executive. At the same time I feel glad since her departure means a shake up in the company’s organization granting me an opportunity to shine.

Yes! I got promoted. No more pouring through the accounts. Mr. Wilson came in this morning and told me how my work impressed him. Now I rank a junior consultant. Much better than an account clerk.

He explained how he felt so confident in my abilities that surely I will soon move up even further. Yes! I knew he would recognize my talents and that I would not need to spend a long time working in accounting.

My first task as consultant is to help a customer put together a corporate brochure. Mr. Wilson said if I do a good job with my first assignment then no doubt he will want to introduce me to the customers. The possibility of that feels exciting. I just know I will impress them.

This first project looks interesting. Mr. Wilson wants me to sort through a whole stack of stock photographs of men and women to help pick good ones to put in the brochure to portray the right professional image.

It seemed a strange assignment at first, but Mr. Wilson pointed out the importance for our customer to present the best impression. Hinting he could only trust someone intelligent and clued-in like me, to pick the right photographs. He did not want to rely on marketing bods.

It made me proud to know, even though he did not say it outright, that he trusts me. Even though I only rank a junior consultant he must trust me more than the other, much more senior, people who work for him. It shows he is priming me for bigger and better things.

Once I started, I actually found it interesting and fun to work through the pictures. First I sorted them into three piles: no way, maybe, and good. Then a second pass to refine further.

After a few hours I narrowed it to a short list and rang Mr. Wilson to ask if he might spare a few minutes to give his opinion. He came and reviewed my work. I am glad he did since he gave some great pointers.

I felt proud when he praised me over the photographs of the men I picked. But when it came to the women he frowned a little. Mr. Wilson told me he saw where I came from when I made my decisions, but I must remember our customer is a modern company and needed a brochure which showed that.

Only then did I realize my error—stupidly I picked women all wearing power suits, all wearing trousers! What a dolt I had been. After praising myself for understanding the post-feminist era I went right back and picked photographs demonstrating I never truly understood that lesson at all. Mentally I scolded myself.

I want to do my absolute best for Mr. Wilson on this project, to make sure he does not regret giving me the promotion. I certainly do not want to return to the accounts department work. So I spent the rest of the day going back through all the women’s photographs, re-sorting them.

Thinking back now about my new assignment I realize how I enjoyed it. Sorting pictures for the brochure really gave me a sense of achievement, knowing my work directly contributes to the company fills me with a wonderful feeling.

I completed the assignment today and felt relieved when Mr. Wilson seemed pleased with the results. It did take a couple of rounds though, but each time Mr. Wilson gave me tips and suggestions. He knows so much and I learn a lot from him.

First I picked photos I thought represented the best women for the brochure. All wore nice blouses with suit jackets. And fashionable short miniskirts—just like a proper professional woman should wear.

But Mr. Wilson rightly suggested that jackets did not really project the best image. True, the women wearing their jackets seemed uptight and uncomfortable—not at all the professional young female executives to represent an up-and-coming company.

So I sifted through the photos yet again and made sure the pictures all showed professional-looking young women without jackets. All of them wore thin, sheer blouses and short skirts similar to the style Mr. Wilson bought for me. I do not know why I failed to realize it initially, but of course that would be what the customer wanted.

After all, since I now dress like a proper female executive, then of course the customer will want pictures of women dressed like me. They would not want ones dressed like an old-fashioned businesswoman—what sort of image would that present in their new brochure?

Mr. Wilson seemed much happier with that selection and praised me. He seemed so excited by the way things were turning out that he could not help giving me a little hug. I tensed up a bit—thinking surely it inappropriate for him to touch me that way, but when he realized my apprehension he set me straight.

Of course I would not have thought twice if another woman hugged me, so why should I care if he expressed his pleasure in my work by doing the same—unless of course I did not really believe that women stood equal with men.

Thinking back on it now, it seems clear I apparently still have some of those backwards ideas about equality and I must make sure to keep that in mind. I should not worry if Mr. Wilson treats me like an equal. And I do not want to disappoint him or make him think he made a bad choice when he hired me.

Anyway, we looked through the short list together and quickly eliminated half the photos; poor lighting, wrinkled clothes, too much slouch, that sort of thing. None of these flaws appeared particularly obvious—but we sought perfection.

When we considered the semi-final set I could not choose between them, but like always Mr. Wilson showed an excellent eye—I just hope I can learn from him to hone my own judgement.

At last we narrowed it to our final few photographs, I must admit they looked the best of the lot. The women seemed poised and elegant. I felt a pang of envy. They radiated such confidence. I want to be like them.

Once he left me to finalize the assignment, I spent some time reviewing the top photographs. I wanted to see if I could identify the properties of the best which made them stand above the rest.

At first, from what I saw, no common factor separated the winners from the others. Still I kept studying them, hoping to unlock the clue.

After a while it finally clicked and I noticed one important difference: The women who “won” wore no bra. That revelation stunned me. The look of their lovely blouses unmarred by any underwear showing through.

I looked back over the other pictures and saw the now obvious: through all their tops showed bra straps and patterned lace. It caught the eye and distracted the viewer’s attention and I realized that fact nagged at me unconsciously while reviewing them earlier.

Now that I looked again with a critical eye, bras detract significantly from the smooth professional look of women and worse draw attention away from their faces to their breasts—Certainly not the reaction we wanted for these professional brochures.

Surely Mr. Wilson had not even realized it when he picked the final pictures, but apparently subconsciously he knew the others did not portray the right image.

I glanced once more at the winning pictures. Yes, they definitely looked the best of the lot. Clearly these were competent and professional women. They exuded confidence in their abilities. I yearn to portray the same confidence and competence, just like them.

Over the past couple days I spent a lot of time thinking about those photographs. It really struck me how women look incredibly great without bras.

So this afternoon I tried on a couple blouses both with and without a bra, to compare. I felt self-conscious without one, but I must admit it made me look good. My blouse looks so much better without a bra showing through the sheer fabric.

I worried that without support my rather large breasts might wobble too much, so I tried walking back and forth to test it. My breasts did bounce when I stepped but it turns out I do not need to worry much about that since I am young and my breasts quite firm. It did feel strange with my breasts unfettered inside my blouse—not unpleasant though.

Now I finally understand why Alison wore no bra. It all makes sense. She knew the importance of making the right impression and willingly sacrificed her bra to achieve that. A shame she left since this is precisely the sort of thing I wanted to talk with her about. I certainly would not feel comfortable talking with Mr. Wilson about it.

Perhaps I might try going without a bra at work tomorrow. I want to be like Alison, I want to be like those beautiful women in the brochure.

Though I do wonder whether anyone will say anything, especially Mr. Wilson. I would feel just too embarrassed if he mentioned it.