"Stocking Tales": Boss's Pet

I also couldn't fathom why a woman twice my age was having a sexual impact on me. Besides wanting to get her approval, my panties were undeniably wet and it had me questioning my sexuality for the first time.

On the drive home, I went to a shoe store and bought three pairs of three inch heels, one pair of four inch heels and one pair of five inch heels.

At home, I spent all night practicing walking in three inch heels. I was determined to be sure to wear them all day tomorrow. I was determined to impress Mrs. Parks.

I also had a bubble bath before I painted my toenails red, wanting to impress and get the approval of my boss, replaying the immediate change in her facial expression when she saw my non-painted toenails.

Then, feeling undeniably horny, I put on a sexy bra and panties, thigh high stockings, grabbed my favourite vibrator, got on my bed and began pleasuring myself.

As I closed my eyes, I imagined Ryan Gosling, like I usually did, forcing me onto my knees and fishing out his (I pray really big) cock.

I slowly teased myself at first, allowing my orgasm to build, as he fucks my face and tells me I'm his slut.

Then I begin pumping the vibrator in my fevered pussy faster, imagining him on top of me fucking me deep and hard. As my orgasm builds, I look up at Ryan who is smiling as he fucks me hard telling me I'm his fuck slut. Then, just as my orgasm hits, his face changes and it is Mrs. Parks fucking me.

Although startled, I allow my orgasm to cascade through me, even as I look up at a smiling Mrs. Parks purring, 'that's it, my pet slut, come for me'.

Once my orgasm was done, I shook my head knowing it had obviously been way too long since I got laid.

I decided to stay in my sexy lingerie and did a couple hours of homework, before going to bed utterly exhausted and still in my lingerie and thigh highs.

That night, I had a crazy wet dream that left me confused and questioning everything about the past couple of days:

The dream started where I disappointed her when she looked at my non painted toes.

Mrs. Parks sighed, "That's very disappointing."

"Sorry, Mrs. Parks," I apologized, feeling terrible that I had disappointed my new boss.

"And for someone with such a high IQ, you should know that the seams of stockings should not be seen. They should be at the end of your toes and both the same."

"Oh," I said quietly, looking down at my stocking-clad feet. I had never put much thought into the seams of the stockings.

"Take off your skirt and blouse," she ordered, surprising me.

"Pardon?" I asked, surprised by her words and looking up at her.

"Now!" she demanded, raising her voice.

Startled, yet feeling the need to obey and not raise her ire any further, I began unbuttoning my blouse while avoiding eye contact.

My hands trembled as I wondered why she wanted me to get undressed, but suddenly thankful that I had worn lingerie underneath the conservative attire.

As I took my blouse off, she said, "Well, that is a pleasant surprise."

"Thank you, Mrs. Parks," I replied, feeling a rush of happiness at making her less annoyed at me.

"The skirt too," she ordered.

I obeyed, my hands no longer trembling, suddenly feeling more confident about myself and the situation. Yet, I was still unsure why I felt the need to obey her. I wasn't a lesbian; she was married. I wasn't sure what could possibly be the end plan for Mrs. Parks.

"Matching panties," she noticed, "very nice."

"It's actually a thong," I corrected, wanting to impress her.

"You are more than meets the eye," she nodded, walking behind me to check. "Just like I thought when I decided to hire you."

"Thank you, Mrs. Parks." I replied, confused by my feeling the need for her to approve of me.

"Pose for me," she ordered.

"How so?" I asked, not sure what she was expecting from me.

"Show me sexy and vulnerable," she explained.

I wasn't sure exactly how to do sexy and vulnerable. It was a somewhat contradictory pair of terms I thought. I gave a pose that I thought was sexy, then focused on my facial expression...on my lips.

"Nice," she nodded. Again walking around me, assessing me from different angles.

Thankfully, I felt very confident about my legs, ass, hips and stomach. It was only my smallish breasts that I had insecurities about. That said, I found lingerie to be a great way to enhance my breasts and make them look fuller.

"Do you work out?" she asked.

"Almost every day," I said proudly. "And a lot of yoga."

"Mmmmm," she purred, her hot breath on my neck. "So you're flexible."

"Very," I said back in a sultry voice, before realizing I was flirting with not only my boss, but a woman, an older woman, a married woman.

"Good to know," she nodded, her hands sliding down my body and to my hips.

A chill went up my spine at her touch and a dampness went directly to my thong.

"Let's see those hips," she continued, moving back around and standing directly in front of me.

I put my hands behind my back and allowed my boss to see me as she wanted to.

"Oh, to be young again," she sighed.

"You're a very beautiful woman, Mrs. Parks," I complimented. "I hope I have as much allure and power as you when I am your age."

"Oh, you are going to be a very loyal pet," she smiled for the first time.

The word 'pet' sent another rush up my spine and into my panties.

"Is your pussy wet, Lily?" she asked.

"A little," I admitted.

"Why?" she questioned.

"I don't know," I replied.

"I think you do," she continued. "Turn around for me, my pet."

"Yes, Mrs. Parks," I obeyed, turning around slowly with my hands behind my back in a submissive, obedient position.

"Very good," she continued.

"Thank you, Mrs. Parks," I whispered, my body trembling with the unknown.

"You want to serve me, Lily?" she asked.

"Yes, Mrs. Parks," I nodded, still with my back to her. Even though I wasn't sure what serving her would entail, I had a hunch.

"Have you ever been with a woman?" she asked, grabbing my arm and turning me around to look at her.

"No, Mrs. Parks," I answered, looking into her eyes.

"But you are considering it at the moment, aren't you, my pet?" she asked, her finger moving between my breasts.

"I don't know," I responded, trembling at her touch.

"Knees, my pet," she ordered.

I looked into her eyes, pondered the order for a brief moment in time, before slowly falling to my knees like a leaf falling off a tree.

As she lifted up her skirt, revealing her glistening pussy, I awakened to my hand in my panties rubbing myself.

I had never been with a woman sexually before, never even seriously considered it, besides making out with friends just to tease our boyfriends. Yet this dream felt like it was really happening.

As I finished getting myself off for a second time with Mrs. Parks in my head, I lay there in my own cum wondering to myself if I found Mrs. Parks more than just an impressive role model, but sexually appealing.

Yes, she was beautiful; yes, she had a sexy allure; yes, her strong persona was attractive; yes, she knew exactly what she wanted...her confidence dripped from her every word and action; and yes, I had always been attracted to those qualities in a man.

The reality was. although I was a strong-willed woman, called a feminist by many men who didn't like my bluntness, I was rather submissive in my sexual relationships:

-I had ridden my boyfriend in the living room while his mother made dinner in the kitchen.

-I had blown another boyfriend under a table at a bar.

-I had allowed a boyfriend to cum on my face in a car and then make me go into a gas station and pay for gas.

-I had allowed a couple guys to finger fuck my even though I found no pleasure in it (but had refused allowing a cock back there)

The reality was I loved giving myself completely to someone else and got off on the thrill of potentially humiliating or high risk situations.

My last boyfriend called me an enigma.

That all said, did I really find Mrs. Parks sexually attractive or was it just her strong personality that I found attractive? After some thought, the answer seemed to be maybe...she indeed had all the personality traits of the men I dated, yet I wasn't a lesbian and I sure wasn't going to risk this great job opportunity on one sex dream and some strange feelings of admiration.

....

On Tuesday, I wore a black dress, with a push-up bra that showcased my breasts, with black thigh highs and three inch black heels.

As I looked at myself in the mirror, I lifted up my skirt slightly and realized just how much hotter I looked today than I had yesterday in a much more conservative outfit. I shook my head thinking about the one I wore for my interview...I'm shocked I was even hired.

I also decided to wear my hair down instead of the one braid I'd worn yesterday that had made me look more like a librarian than the sexy professional Mrs. Parks described. I wanted to look like a beautiful fetching woman, and this outfit was definitely a step in the right direction.

I again spent the day with Elizabeth and was given my first real project to work on.

I spent all afternoon working on the project and learned later in the day that Mrs. Parks wasn't even in the office today nor would she be later.

I couldn't explain it, but I felt an undeniable sense of disappointment at the reality that she wasn't going to see the improvements I had made in my attire.

Just as quickly, I chuckled to myself at the reality that I was disappointed. I knew then that I did indeed have a crush on my female boss. 'Shit', I sighed, realizing I was potentially screwing up a great job opportunity with a lesbian crush.

That night, though, I again had a dream, again it was vivid and again it brought me to a fever pitch.

I was sitting on a chair in her office and she ordered me to lift up my skirt enough to showcase my lace top of my thigh highs.

I stammered, "W-w-why, Mrs. Parks?"

She replied, "You know why, Lily."

I looked up at her as she stood in front of me and said, "Because you want to be my unconditional submissive plaything, Lily."

"I-I-I do?" I stammered, even as my pussy got wet.

"Don't you?" she smiled down at me from her position of power.

"I don't know," I whispered, my head spinning with confusion.

"Lift up your skirt, my pet," she ordered.

Hearing the term 'my pet' had my pussy leak into my panties and I obeyed her request wordlessly.

"Good girl," she purred, looking down at me. "Did you wear those for me, my pet?"

"Yes," I admitted, not making eye contact.

"Look at me, my pet," she ordered.

I looked up into her hazel-green eyes.

"Why did you wear such sexy thigh thighs?" she asked again.

"For you, Mrs. Parks," I admitted.

"Why?" she asked.

"I honestly don't know," I admitted, which was true. I couldn't explain why I felt the need to obey her, to please her, to get her approval, but I undeniably did.

"I do," she smiled. "You're submissive and although you don't understand it yet, all your failed relationships are because you've been dating the wrong sex."

"How do you know that?" I asked, even though I had begun questioning my sexuality yesterday.

"I can read people," she answered, before adding, "and you are an open book."

"And how does my book end?" I asked, smiling up at her trying to be sultry.

"That is up to you, my pet," she smiled. "I expect total obedience."

"I'm very loyal, Mistress," I replied, calling her Mistress to clearly stress my position.

"Mmmmm, good word choice," she purred.

"I understand what it means to give total obedience," I responded, eager to show her just how committed I was to her.

"And what does total obedience mean?" she asked.

"Obeying without hesitation any order given to me," I replied.

"Any order?" she questioned.

"Without hesitation," I finished her sentence.

"Interesting," she nodded, looking at me with lengthy consideration.

After a brief silence that seemed like an eternity, she ordered, "On your knees, my pet."

"Yes, Mistress," I obeyed, standing up off the chair and then lowering myself to my knees in front of her.

"Does this feel natural, my pet? To be on your knees?" she asked, looking down at me.

"Yes, Mistress," I nodded.

"Why?" she asked.

"Some are born to be leaders and some to be followers, Mistress," I answered. "You were born to be a leader and I a follower, or more aptly put, you are the queen and I the servant."

"Good girl," she bobbed with approval. "You understand your place."

"As your unconditional underling," I smiled, using her word from our first meeting last week.

"You are a very fast learner," she again nodded.

"And eager to please," I added, my mouth watering with anticipation for the order to taste her pussy.

"I bet you are," she smiled down at me as she lifted up her skirt to reveal she wasn't wearing any panties.

"Show me hunger with just your lips, my pet," she ordered.

I wasn't sure what hunger would look like; nor did I have a clue what I looked like as I attempted to obey the order.

"You do have the sexiest lips ever," she complimented.

"Thank you, Mistress," I replied.

"I bet you have often got what you wanted because of them," she continued.

I shrugged, "I don't know, but I've definitely had a lot of compliments on them."

"I bet you have," she nodded.

I looked back down at her shaved cunt and she asked, "Is my pet's cunt shaved?"

"No, Mistress," I admitted. I trimmed it, but found shaving it bare way too much work for the rare time a man was down there.

"That will change ASAP," she ordered.

"I will do it tonight," I promised.

"Good pet," she purred, as she grabbed the back of my head and guided me to her pussy.

Frustratingly, that is when I woke up, again just as I was to submit completely.

As I replayed the dream, I couldn't believe how real it felt. I also couldn't believe how disappointed I was to wake up and realize it was all just a dream...again.

I rolled over, set my alarm half an hour earlier, deciding I would shave my pussy in the morning just in case. If, for some unknown reason, she asked the question, I wanted to have the correct answer.

As I closed my eyes and drifted into slumber, I wondered what I would do if Mrs. Parks did really make a move on me.

.....

On Wednesday, desperate to impress her (on the assumption she was at work today), I wore a tighter, sexier blouse and push up bra that greatly showcased my breasts, maybe too much, a skirt greatly above the knees that barely hid the lace top of the black thigh high stockings, and the three inch heels I had again practiced in all night. I definitely looked hot in this outfit.

I hemmed and hawed over the blouse. It was definitely a lot more risqué, complete night and day from the white dull blouse of my interview day, and maybe actually too risqué. Yet, my desire to impress Mrs. Parks was suddenly more important than getting judged by coworkers who may see my blouse as crossing the line.

The skirt was also ridiculously short, only barely hiding the top of the lace top stockings when standing up. If sitting down or bent over at any angle, anyone looking would know I was wearing thigh high stockings and not pantyhose.

Then I wondered if this was advice Mrs. Parks gave to all her employees? Was Elizabeth wearing thigh highs under her outfit? Was Mrs. Parks' secretary wearing thigh highs? The rest of her philosophy was being followed: sexy business attire, with skirts above the knee, three inch heels and something slightly sexy as an accessory of sexuality.

For Mrs. Parks it was seamed stockings; for Elizabeth it was blouses that showcased her very large breasts, for the redhead whose name I couldn't remember it was outfits that highlighted her flaming, flowing red hair.

In conclusion, I could assume that every woman in the firm was wearing thigh high stockings.

Feeling confident and sexy, I grabbed my camera and tri-pod and took some photos of myself in a variety of sexy positions I imagined Mrs. Parks liking.

The first photo I took was replaying the scene of my interview with Mrs. Parks when she put her stocking-clad heel on my leg.

I remembered how soft her nylons were, how strange it felt to touch them and yet how equally erotic it was.

Was that the moment that I began to have feelings for Mrs. Parks?

Maybe.

There was no one moment that made me question my sexuality, yet the combination of the interview, her personality, her firm tone, her beautiful legs in nylons, the black seam going up the back of her leg, her hypnotic eyes, her confidence and strangely her treatment of me. Somehow she seemed to know I was submissive, even though in my interview I oozed confidence. Well, at least I thought I did.

The next picture I slipped off one of my heels and did a similar pose with my stocking-clad foot on the chair.

I took a few more before photos in a variety of poses before heading to school for morning classes. I got a few looks from the college boys and I think at least one professor and even a whistle from a construction worker as I waited for a taxi.

At work, I looked at every woman for signs of thigh high stockings, determined to prove my hypothesis correct. And although it took a while, I saw two lace tops: one on Velma, an accountant who assisted me when my computer froze, and one on a woman whom I hadn't met before who was wearing a skirt, surprisingly below the knee, but with a very generous slit down the side. I was confident that I was correct, every woman was wearing the attire Mrs. Parks expected.

All day, I again waited with anticipation for the approval I was confident I would finally get from Mrs. Parks. Although I hadn't seen her, I inquired slyly to learn that she was indeed in the office. However, she would be in meetings all afternoon with clients.

The day was ending, and I was again feeling utterly disappointment (like after a good date with a guy who doesn't call the next day to affirm the date went as well as you thought it did) that Mrs. Parks wasn't going to see the attire I had purposely worn just for her, when her secretary, whose name I couldn't recall even though she had been introduced to me, said that Mrs. Parks wanted to see me.

A rush of giddy excitement coursed through me. I shook my head at how silly I was acting. I was twenty-two years old, not fifteen.

I went to her office and again she ordered, "Please close the door, Lily."

"Of course, Mrs. Parks," I agreed, already in the process of closing it.

She said, as she pointed me to a chair, although her firm tone didn't change, "Much, much better."

"Thank you, Mrs. Parks," I replied, again feeling a rush of adrenaline at getting her approval and, to my surprise, a tingle in my pussy.

"Quite the blouse," she continued.

"I hoped you would like it, Mrs. Parks," I responded eagerly, somehow feeling a desperate need to get her approval.