Lucinda's New Life

Things began to look better when the alarm did wake her as planned at five o'clock on Wednesday morning. Lucinda showered quickly in her en-suite bathroom, pulled on her underwear and robe then sat at her computer which was linked to her office desktop.

There were so many emails that her headache came back with a vengeance, but she poured an extra cup of really strong coffee to keep herself awake and glowered at the screen. The annoying flicker was still there but it was much less noticeable now.

Two more cups of coffee and nearly an hour's work later the clock announced it was almost time for her driver Richard to arrive and take her to work.

Time to get dressed, she thought. Lucinda went to her walk-in closet and stared angrily into at the rows of hangers.

Trousers! Trousers, Trousers! Nothing but trousers! Did they think she was a man for Christ's sake? Where were her work skirts?

Ah! There they were. She had always preferred skirts so why did she own so many trousers? She would get rid of them at the weekend, meanwhile why should she deny her femininity just because she worked in a male dominated industry'?

Skirts it would be from now on -- that would show those chauvinistic bastards who was in charge!

Thirty minutes later and wearing a smart suit with slim-fitting pencil skirt, tights and low-heeled court shoes, Lucinda wriggled awkwardly into the back of her chauffeur driven limousine and entered the London traffic ready for a good solid day's work.

But it was not to be! Wednesday was to be as full of annoyances as Tuesday and what's more, seemed to drag on endlessly.

The project was undeniably behind schedule but after the dressing down she had given him yesterday, the Site Manager Brian Bloody Barlow was finally showing signs of bringing it back into line. If only she didn't have to put up with his archaic, chauvinistic attitude! Still, if he got the job done she would perhaps take a more lenient line -- but only until the project was finished!

Bloody men! Lucinda thought. She needed fewer of them in her life!

She had tried three times to complete the letter to her solicitors instructing them to start divorce proceedings against her husband Peter, but every time she had called up the letter on her laptop -- cursing its still-flickering screen -- she had become distracted and had finally abandoned the idea.

When she finally got home, leaning back on her sofa with a gin and tonic in her hand and the BBC News playing on the softly flickering wall-mounted TV screen, Lucinda reflected on her day.

It hadn't been all bad; she had been very surprised how much better she had felt about herself now that she had abandoned trousers in favour of a skirt. Of course she should have realised this long ago. Trying to beat the men at their own game was futile; they had a lifetime of experience playing macho.

No, using femininity to her advantage was a much better idea, and one with which they could not directly compete. Besides, she had felt more comfortable in her softer, more feminine attire and the attitude of her female subordinates had improved considerably, once they had got used to her new appearance.

Yes, the skirts were here to say. Once the TV news was finished she would bundle up her unflattering trousers and leave them for one of the charity shops to collect.

Now to finish that letter about the divorce... Where was her laptop?

Bloody Hell! The screen was flickering again. She couldn't write anything as important as the divorce letter on a useless piece of junk like that. She would get that other useless piece of junk - the spotty IT nerd at the office, whatever his name was - to look at it tomorrow.

Then she would finish the letter and start moving Peter out of her life!

Thursday 10th July

The alarm roused Lucinda from a troubled sleep in which images of her husband, Victoria his worshipping PA, the nerdy IT expert Alan Reid and Brian Bloody Barlow had been interspersed with deeply vivid images of her having sex with them all in many positions and combinations. The one constant theme apart from the disturbing content of the dreams was the permanent state of arousal in which she had found herself every time she woke in the night.

Contrary to all her normal weekday behaviour, she had been driven to masturbate herself to orgasm three times simply in order to drive the nightmares from her mind.

Now, tired and achy, she turned on the TV morning news on the bedroom screen. After a few seconds, the reporter's face appeared but that irritating flickering was still there and once again, there seemed to be a strange background noise behind the woman's voice.

She cursed and turned up the volume while she put the kettle on then showered, feeling the life force slowly re-enter her body. A slice of toast later and she felt almost herself again. There was no way she would take any time off sick in any circumstances so she steeled herself to get on with her day.

As she crossed to her closet, pulled out her clothes for the day then, catching sight of herself in the full-length mirrors, Lucinda took stock of her appearance. Her figure was quite nice; a bit flat chested perhaps but still slim and fit-looking. All that horse riding was good for the buttocks, she smiled wryly.

So if it wasn't her body, what was it that was niggling at her? What was it that was still making feel uncomfortable?

Yesterday's site meeting had gone quite well; she hadn't bothered to put Brian Bloody Barlow in his place again despite him calling her 'love' and patting her on the hand several times.

If he did it again tomorrow though, there would be trouble.

Maybe it wasn't entirely his fault though; maybe there was something about her that made him behave in that awful, sexist way. She looked at herself in the mirror and her clothes on the bed. Smart white blouse, hair still tied back and under control, dark tights and her knee length, pencil skirt.

That skirt! That was it; that damned skirt!

She frowned angrily and riffled through the hangers in her closet. All her skirts were the same; look at the length! How could she have been so unthinking, wearing skirts so long that they were almost at her knees?

For God's sake, Lucinda, you can worry about your legs when you are old. Right now you need to be taken seriously at work. How can that happen if you dress like your Grandmother?

Not one of her skirts was short enough! Lucinda rummaged through the mass of hangers looking for something more appropriate. Too long! Too long! Much too long!

Nothing! No, wait!

There were a couple at the back she had forgotten about. She couldn't remember buying them but there they were in her size in her closet so she must have bought them, mustn't she?

She pulled them out. These were better; much better. Lucinda held one of them up against her waist. It came no more than half way down her thigh. She tried it on. It was black and pleated and fitted her perfectly, showing most of her leg.

Not too bad she thought, a bit like school uniform but in a way, quite business-like. It would have to do anyway, at least until she could buy something a bit shorter in the morning.

Cursing her misjudgement, she stuffed her long skirts into a bin liner then dressed, promising to go shopping on her way home tomorrow and get some really nice miniskirts.

***

"Peter?" she called out as she entered the apartment that evening.

It was late; after nine o'clock. Lucinda's husband was supposed to be in Southampton on a case but as she opened the apartment's front door Lucinda thought she could smell the expensive cologne he had so profitably advertised to the world until his accident had brought his fame to an end and with it, their A-list status.

She hoped it wasn't him. Something was troubling her and the last thing she needed was a distraction like her soon-to-be-ex-husband around. Even so, she was a little surprised at the flash of disappointment that passed through her when there was no reply.

Lucinda shrugged; it had been a long and difficult day again and she had no time for silliness. After hanging up her coat and kicking off her shoes, she poured her usual large gin and tonic and went into the kitchen. There, she slammed a ready-meal into the oven and walked through into her bedroom to get changed into something more comfortable before pulling out her laptop and settling at the desk in the study she shared with her husband.

***

It was nearly midnight when Lucinda closed her laptop decisively and downed the last of her coffee. Three hours of good solid work; after the last few days, that was quite an achievement! She had got so used to the flickering of her screen that she barely noticed it now, though her head did hurt from looking at it for so long.

Maybe it was something to do with the mains electricity supply. Peter would know but he wasn't there to ask.

Peter! Had she really been so angry with him? She played with the idea in her mind.

Maybe she was being a bit hard on her husband. Okay, he had been difficult to live with recently, but he had been under so much pressure with his new job and his injury. Perhaps she should have been more patient; more understanding with him. What with the big court case keeping him in Southampton and the new project she was working on, she hadn't seen much of him over the past week and, to her surprise, she missed him terribly, especially in bed.

Bed! Lucinda couldn't believe how little they had made love over the past few months. How could she have turned down such a wonderful, handsome, desirable man even once, let alone all the times she had refused him?

She had been bad-tempered too and had even planned to ... what was it she had been planning to do? She couldn't quite remember.

Once they were less busy and back living in the same apartment, she would make it up to him; he could do anything he wanted with her.

She was his wife after all, she told herself proudly then shivered with unexpected excitement at the idea.

Still, her property deal and his court case had to be finished first. They would go away together somewhere romantic once all the contracts were in place. Meanwhile she put her feet up on the stool to relax, looking over her flat tummy and the delicate silk panties she had chosen that morning, down her long, slender, aching legs, towards her bare feet.

Her feet. She stared at them in horror!

That was it; shoes! Flat shoes! She had worn flats all day! Had she really been so stupid? Worse; she must have worn them all week? For Christ's sake why hadn't anyone told her? No wonder her legs ached!

Wearing flats with trousers was bad enough, with knee length skirts it was worse but with skirts as short as hers it was a style gaffe so bad it was almost criminal.

What had she been thinking? Heels were what was needed! And the higher, the better.

Despite her tiredness, she ran into her bedroom and opened her walk-in closet. Where were her heels? She had several pairs; why hadn't she worn them for so long?

Ah! There they were... three inch... three inch... four inch... Ah, five inch; that was better.

Lucinda pulled out two boxes and opened them. Yes! Five-inch patent shoes, one pair of black, one pair of red. Why on earth she had bought the lower heels she couldn't imagine! She took out the red shoes, slipped them on and sighed; the colour would have gone so well with the fashionably tiny skirt she had worn all day.

Why hadn't she found these shoes that morning? To think that all those men on the site had seen her in her short skirt and flat shoes! With dress sense like that, it was no wonder they had treated her with a lack of respect.

Well, that wouldn't happen again! No way!

Lucinda took a large black bin-bag and began to fill it with those hated flat shoes - and the low heels too for good measure. Only high heels for her in future!

In the lounge, the laptop screen flickered and glowed.

Friday 11th July

Lucinda felt pleased with herself as her limousine approached the smart building in which she worked. Things would be better today; her short, pleated skirt was a big improvement on the long ones and looked even shorter and more stylish with the red high heels. To cap it all, she had made herself look even more professional and business-like by choosing a really tight-fitting white top to go with it.

It had been tricky getting in and out of the limousine in such a short skirt without flashing her knickers but Lucinda had been to the right school and knew all about deportment. She had worn dark underwear and tights too, just in case anyone was nearby and could have seen up her skirt, but she was confident all had been fine.

She had arrived early, to get on with her work as soon as she reached her desk. She had tried to work at home but the screen flicker and sound had been too distracting and after half an hour her mind had wandered so far she knew she had to get to the office.

There was the usual site meeting that afternoon and she needed to be spot-on with her preparation.

As she stood in the lobby of the huge office building and pressed the button to call the private elevator to the Directors' Floor, she could feel the eyes of the staff on her from all sides.

Let them stare, she thought. This is what a real businesswoman looked like. Look hard at the woman who would soon take over the whole multi-national corporation. Learn from the woman who really knew how to dress.

The woman who, when she had spent half an hour or so on her make-up in the Ladies' room upstairs, would be taken very seriously indeed.

***

It was already late when Richard dropped Lucinda off at her apartment.

She was annoyed; the site meeting had over-run, she still had an hour's work to do and she was due to meet a group of her old girl's school friends in the West End at nine o'clock for an evening of chat, dancing, drinking and more chat. Lucinda had been looking forward to this reunion evening for weeks; as a workaholic she didn't go out with her friends very often but the meeting that afternoon had annoyed her too much to let her relax.

Brian Bloody Barlow, the site manager had been insufferable, calling her 'sweetheart' and 'my dear' again throughout the meeting, the patronising git. That was despite the new ultra-short skirt she had worn especially for the meeting and her fantastic business-like red high heels!

Only Alan Reid, the firm's IT expert, had treated her with real respect. Alan had tried to deal with the flickering screens on her desktop, laptop, home pc and her TV too. To her increased annoyance, it was still there, though it was much less noticeable now.

She snorted; the man might be a computer whiz but despite his good looks he wasn't perfect.

Strange how she had never noticed how attractive he was; Lucinda could have sworn he had been nothing but a spotty geek until recently but now... Still, perhaps she would be able to look at her screens for longer now without getting the headaches that she seemed to have become prone to since Peter went away for work.

Work!

Lucinda knew she must concentrate on work! She mustn't let herself get distracted. Strange how that seemed to be happening a lot more often since... since what?

Work, Lucinda!

There would be another Site Meeting the following afternoon -- yes, it was a Saturday but this was too important a project to worry about trivial things like weekends and anyway, her beloved Peter couldn't get home until Sunday so she would have been on her own anyway .

She really missed her gorgeous husband. Strange how they hadn't been getting on so well recently. Perhaps it was to do with her job. After all she had only just realised how wrongly she had been dressing and behaving at work, so maybe she had been making mistakes at home too.

It certainly couldn't be Peter's fault things had been strained. He was everything a girl could want.

Lucinda promised herself she would make a really special effort to make him happy when he returned. Sex would be best; sex and plenty of it. It had always helped her relax in the past and she was so much nicer to be with when she was relaxed.

It's not as if it was a burden; Peter was the best lover a girl could ever want too. She smiled inwardly when she remembered what it was like being in bed with him; his strong, fit body, his long, thick cock -- how she wanted to feel that cock inside her again. It made her feel so...

Work, Lucinda! Got to be ready for the meeting!

Well maybe she would do that when she woke in the morning. It was so hard to concentrate now she had started to think of her husband and what she wanted him to do to her in bed...

No! Do the work now! It had to be now!

There was very little time to get ready for her girly evening and she had to work out exactly why the site meeting had gone wrong. There must be no repeat tomorrow.

Trying to shake off her distraction, Lucinda went into her bedroom and looked in the full length mirror, hoping for an answer. The tight shirt she wore looked professional; her small boobs were well presented. The new, extra-short skirt looked smart and business-like too, and hung so well with those high heels.

Thank God she had remembered those heels! Her legs looked long and slim and sexy in them, just as a high flying businesswoman should look, so what was wrong?

She bent over to brush a piece of fluff from her ankle. Her skirt rode up, exposing a tantalising glimpse of her buttocks.

Then she saw it! Of course! How could she have been so careless; so stupid?

Tights! It was all down to tights! For days now she had gone to work wearing tights with her skirts!

Tights! For God's sake girl, haven't you learned anything? Wearing flat shoes had been bad enough, but tights!

It was no wonder Brian Bloody Barlow hadn't taken her ideas and objections seriously!

Lucinda felt very embarrassed; everyone knew that skirts and heels need stockings, not tights! What must the team have thought of her committing yet another terrible style gaffe? No wonder they had been staring at her when they thought she couldn't tell.

Well, that wouldn't happen again! She would buy a couple of pairs of stockings from the late night supermarket on her way into town to meet the girls. They would do for tomorrow if she couldn't find anything else, but what did she have in her drawers already? Lucinda went into the closet, pulled open the second drawer down and rummaged.

Tights Tights! Tights! All were tights. What had she been thinking?

Hold on! There at the back were two new pairs of what looked like stockings. Strange, she must have bought those years ago and forgotten about them. She couldn't remember doing it but thank God she had! Lucinda pulled them out, unwrapped them and inspected them carefully.

Hmmm! Very fine black hold-ups with lacy tops. Would they do? They would have to. They weren't quite as delicate and sexy as she would have chosen but they would certainly do for tomorrow; at least until she had had a chance to get to Victoria's Secret. Better get a couple of decent suspender belts as well -- better still, get a matching lingerie set or two; she could afford it after all.

Lucinda figuratively kicked herself. What had she been thinking? How could anyone take her seriously if her legs didn't look right?

Tomorrow things would be better.

Feeling pleased with herself for having worked out what to do, Lucinda could concentrate on getting ready for her evening out!

She could try out one of the pairs of stockings straight away - once she had finished her work of course. Now she had realised what the problem was, she would be able to concentrate much better!

Smiling, Lucinda sat in front of her open laptop and began to type, cursing under her breath as the screen flickered once again.