Little time has passed. We still continued to work closely with Pasha. My wardrobe was slowly updated with new things. Extremely short skirts, dresses (do not raise your hands), stockings of different density, color and patterns. Pasha asked me almost every day to put lacy underwear into my vagina. He had just some kind of mania for this thing. I obediently carried out his requests, deriving pleasure from this, which I could not explain. In addition to physical pleasure, I felt the moral excitement of fulfilling Pashka's wishes. Strong excitement drowned out shyness. I got more and more pleasure from our prikolchiki. I understood with my mind that all this was not quite normal, but when I came home with wet feet and a swollen vagina, I masturbated like a madman, flooding the sofa that I could not dry out from my orgasms. Of course, Pasha was far away, and I occasionally met with men. Fortunately, with my appearance is not a problem. But nevertheless I received true pleasure from Pasha. His youth and such a perverted fantasy excited me incredibly!

Each time a fine line of morality and public opinion was increasingly erased.

And so, one day, Pasha called me in the morning. I was going to work. He, as usual, checked what I would wear. At his request, I chose the most, the most lacy underwear. These were transparent pink panties (shorts) and a fully transparent pink bra. I also wore nude flesh-colored stockings with a lace pattern on the outer side, and to them a pink lace belt with elastic bands. For a long time I broke when choosing a skirt, but I had to give in to Pasha and put on the one he chose - it was a pink mini from leatherette. From above, the skirt was pink to leatherette, and from the bottom a pink lace transparent petticoat of greater length than the skirt itself.

Wriggling in front of the mirror, I grimaced. In front through the transparent bottom of the skirt, if you look closely, you could see the top of the stockings of the belt stuck with elastic bands, and behind, on the pope, and so the short hem was raised and the view opened ... Ah! In addition, the skirt itself was lush and with the wind all these laces easily rose to the top, revealing to everyone the stockings with pink belt elastic bands. And behind the bottom and opened the priests in lacy pink shorts!

I tried, as much as possible to pull the skirt down on his hips, but this was of little use.

From above, I put on a silk and, again, a pink blouse with sleeves "flashlights" buttoned at the front. At the request of Pasha, I did not fasten the top buttons so that the lace transparent bra was slightly visible in the slit of the blouse. Wearing white shoes on a platform and high heels, I walked over to the mirror.

"Well, whore!" - I thought, looking at myself in the reflection. Having straightened my short skirt a few more times, I grabbed my purse and left the apartment. Although it was morning and there were quite a few passers-by on the street, I felt uncomfortable in my attire. It was also quite windy and I didn’t like it at all. The light lace bottom of the skirt flew upwards with every, even weak, breeze, and I had to constantly pull it up. Knocking on my heels, I quickly minced down the street with a single desire to quickly hide my legs at my desk and face the computer monitor. I noticed on myself frankly devouring the views of men. I was ashamed and at the same time very exciting.

Adrenaline did his disgusting thing, easing bashfulness.At some point, I realized that I was going, strongly wagging my hips, and already completely ceased to pull the skirt hem! In the lower abdomen, the fluttering butterflies fluttered and the gusset became wet. As if in a fog, I got to work. Opening the door of the bank, I entered the operating room. Hurriedly saying hello to the guard at the entrance, I quickly crossed the hall and ran into my office. Closing the door behind me, I noticed the rounded eyes and the open mouth of the guard who was looking at my lower body. I slammed the door, sat at the table and turned on the computer. A shiver ran through the body. I was tormented by mixed feelings of shame and arousal. I tried to focus on work, my thoughts were confused in my head. I presented myself from the outside as I walked down the street in this form. And now I’m sitting at work and I still have to leave the office and in such a form appear in front of colleagues and clients of the bank.

“Mmmmmm ...” - I winced like a toothache, presenting my working day.

Suddenly, the phone rang. I looked at the call, called Pashenka. Everything inside me shrank.

"Hello" - I replied with a sinking.

“Are you already at work?” He asked.

"Yes. I sit in the office "

“How did you get there?” He asked. “No one pestered?”

"Not. Normally reached. Only everyone was staring, ”I caught my breath. I again remembered the men's views.

“Mmm ... You are super!” Pasha whispered delightedly, “Are you alone in the office?”

"Yes" - I was a little tense, waiting for the continuation.

"And I want you to go out to the people" - his voice was excited - "Well, pretend that there is something for work".

“Well ... Okay,” I answered uncertainly.

"Fine! Only one condition - pull the skirt as high as possible. "

“Yes, where it is already higher! Pasha! ”- I sincerely indignant -“ I can see the sex of my ass, and so ...

"I said above Whore!" - Pasha cut me off in an authoritative tone - "Stretch out!"

I got up from the table and pulled the skirt up. Even looking at myself from above, I perfectly saw how stockings with garters appeared from under the hem and even the lace of underpants got out on display.

“I ... I cannot walk like this at work Pasha ...” - I said, realizing that all my persuasions would not give anything.

“Can you Slut!” He answered loudly, “I want it so much! Let's get out of the office! ”

Sighing, I went to the door and opened it with a sinking heart.

"Well ... I went ..." - I exhaled into the phone and resolutely stepped into the hall.

“I'll call you back later,” said Pasha and turned off the phone.

"Well, as always ..." - I thought - "Left one."

Opposite the office, near the racks of operators, there were people. They immediately stared at me. Everything inside me shrank. Looking down, I walked across the room to the box office. Along the wall, on the sofas, waiting for their turn, there were people too, and all as one stared at me. I walked along the box office, pretending to be looking for a free booth. There were queues near the booths. Burning with shame, I went through to the end and, naturally, not finding a free booth, turned back. Trying not to pay attention to the giggles and the views of others, I again went through the whole hall to my office. The girls operators stared at me because of their racks opening their mouths.

Entering the office, I flopped with relief into a chair and took a breath. I tried to focus on work. After a while, the office phone rang.

“Olga Vladimirovna” - I heard the voice of the secretary of the bank manager - “Please go to the chief”.

“Right now?” Everything inside sank again.

“Yes, right now,” the secretary answered and hung up.

I got up, pulled out my little skirt as much as possible and with a sinking decisively left the office. Passed through the hall to the service door and entered the corridor. Walking quickly through the service corridor, I lowered my head and greeted the colleagues on the way without raising my eyes. Constantly pulling my skirt up, I reached the reception manager. The secretary saw me, was at first taken aback, then grinned disgustingly.

“Come in, Olga Vladimirovna,” she said in the same disgusting way, continuing to grin, “You are already expected.”

I again tried to pull the skirt as low as possible.There was little sense. I walked to the chief's door, exhaled, and opened the door.

"Hello. Allow me? ”I said timidly. We were all afraid of the chef. He was a very strict leader, of the old school.

"Yes Yes. Hello, Olga Vladimirovna. Come on in. "

I went to the table where the chef was sitting and stood with his head down in front of him ...