Karen was nervous. She was getting ready for the sales meeting of her career. That deal would bring in 5 millions a year for the next 5 years to the company. She had to play her cards right the first time, since she was competing against 4 other suppliers. The group of Chinese investors was reputed very picky.
Nervously, she checked again herself in the mirror: knee length beige skirt, black turtleneck shirt and a beige classic jacket. She put on her beige flat heels suede shoes and headed for the door.
The traffic was light on that Saturday morning. Yeah, she was going to work on a Saturday, but for a 25 millions contract, what was a lousy day off. She was heading for the office. There she would meet Phil the International Sales Manager and Pete, the President of the company, that would assist her on the sale, but she was in charge. They were there to support her… and make sure she wouldn’t lose the contract.
She arrived at the office two hours before the meeting, to make sure everything was perfect. She was merely alone on that 35th floor. The office was totally deserted. Time went by. She reviewed her presentation, prepared for the questions, and waited for Pete and Phil to come in. An hour went by. She was getting nervous by the minute. Where were they!
Meeting – 40 minutes.
She was a nerve wreck. The phone rang.
“Hi Karen, it’s Pete. I’m with Phil. There’s been an accident on the bridge. We’re stuck in traffic. I don’t think we’ll make up for the meeting.”
“Oh rats! Don’t tell me that! When do you think you’ll get here?”
“Well, according to the officer, it will take a good hour just to get that semi out of the way, so I’d say in two hours.”
“Geesh! The meeting will be over by then.”
“Sorry Karen. Do your best, and if you need help, just call me. I’m sure they’ll understand our situation. I have full confidence in you. Good luck.”
Karen hung up. Now she was getting really nervous and she really needed that other cup of coffee. She picked up the silex and as she pivoted to get to her cup, she picked up the sugar bowl. That made her lose track of the silex, which hit the top cabinet rather hard. The silex broke up, sending hot dark coffee all over her. She startled, shaking the sugar bowl, which spread sugar on the hot coffee stains. In dismay, she stayed there, with the handles of the silex in one hand, and the empty sugar bowl in the other, looking at the dark stains slowly growing downward on her beige jacket, skirt and dripping on her beige shoes.
“Oh shit! What now?” she yelled.
She quickly got a mop and cleaned the floor, but she was badly stained. She looked at herself in the mirror: She couldn’t go to the meeting like that. She tried to wipe the stains off, but with the mixed sugar, it was worse than worse. She had only one solution: change. But she didn’t have any clothes. Perhaps someone in the office did.
Meeting – 30 minutes
She looked everywhere, and found nothing. Well, that could be explainable, she thought looking at the stains; after all, it was only coffee stains. She grinned.
She looked around for a spare silex to prepare more coffee for the investors. That’s when she found the carry bag. Frantically, she opened it and got out a pair of jeans and a leather jacket. A quick look at the name tag on the bag: It belonged to Sandra, Pete’s ex-girlfriend. She had probably forgotten it there when they broke up, over two months ago.
She figured that she would be better off in jeans than in a stained suit. She would find an explanation, somehow.
She quickly undressed, keeping only her underwear and her turtleneck black shirt. To try to save her suit, she put them in the sink with warm soapy water.
She pulled the jeans on. When they stopped at her hips she panicked. She quickly remembered that Sandra wore her jeans rather tight. But still…
“No! That’s not true! They don’t fit! Oh man, what now?” she said to herself.
Then she looked at the sink. Her only alternative was soaking in water. She had no choice but to put the jeans on. A quick look at the label confirmed that they were two sizes smaller than her own size. Panicked, she tried jumping in place while pulling on the jeans. Slowly, the jeans rose up, until the crotch seam wouldn’t go any higher. She sighs. All that was left to do was close them. She lay on her back, on the floor, and started to pull the zipper up, as she pulled the sides together. The gap was very wide. Slowly, tooth by tooth, the zipper went up, until finally, it reached the button. She let her arms drop by her side, panting in short gasps. It was compressing her waist like a corset.
She had a real clue at how tight they were when she tried to get up. She had to use a chair, because she couldn’t bend at the hips enough to get her leg under her.
“This is not a good idea.” She said, rubbing her hands along her tightly encased hips and thighs, feeling the tensed denim ready to rip apart. That sent her shivering pleasures waves. She closed her eyes, dismissing them.
Meeting – 20 minutes.
It was obvious that the legs of the jeans were too long. A good 5 inches too long. She rolled them first, but it didn’t hold. She knew the solution, but was reluctant to do it. Closing her eyes, she plunged her hand back into the bag, producing a pair of red patent platform shoes with spiky six inches heels.
“That should do it.” She said with a sigh.
But putting them on was another story. She had to kneel and struggle quite a lot to do it. Finally, with the help of a chair, she got up. She was surprised by her reflection in the mirror of the staff room: She was looking incredibly tall and slim. She had long never ending legs, well molded in her tight jeans. Her black shirt was enhancing her figure. She looked gorgeous.
But enough of that, she had to get ready for the meeting. She was backed to the backrest of a chair. As she walked away, she felt a pull and heard a ripping sound. With eyes wide open, she stopped and put her hand in her back. Her black shirt had somewhat caught in one of the chair’s screws and it had ripped open! Now she had a wide hole in her back. She had to cover it.
She looked at the black leather jacket. It should do it. She put it on, only to realize that it was also too small. The arms were hard to pull through, but she had no choice, no other alternatives.
The jacket arms were so tight that she couldn’t bend her arm more than 90 degrees, and it was impossible to close at the front. She sighs.
Meeting – 10 minutes.
She was stunned by her look in the mirror. The tight leather jacket made her breasts appear bigger. The tight jeans, her waist and hips smaller, and the high heels gave her extremely long legs.
She grinned. This was not the look the investors were expecting. But she had no choice. She would have to play her cards right. Well, she can simply tell the truth. She was not inventing anything; it was just a series of bad accidents. But then again, that could lead the investors to believe that she’s prone to accidents and back-off?
She walked back to the meeting room. When she reached the door, she stopped, panting, wide eyes, a hand on the doorframe, the other at her crotch.
“Oh my god! I can’t go on with the presentation like that! I’ll explode in front of them. Those jeans are possessed!”
She made a few more steps, trying to control the tight rubbing at her crotch, the stimulation, the excitement. She would have to learn in… five minutes. The heels, the twisting, the rubbing, everything was a turn-on. Now she understands why Sandra wore tight jeans all the time.
Meeting – one minute.
She was facing the elevator door. The driver of the limo had phoned her, confirming that he had dropped them at the elevator. The bell rang and the door opened on the investors.
They were 7. Mister Wo, his wife, his two twin daughters, and his two sons, plus a translator. They looked shocked when they saw the gorgeous woman in front of them. Or was it the dishonouring woman? Karen smiled as best as she could, helped by the incredible feeling at her crotch.
“Hi, I’m Karen.” She said, approaching Mister Wo and offering her hand. He took it, disturbed. His wife appeared of ice, but her two sons had eyes only for her. His daughters appeared puzzled.
Karen led them to the meeting room. Once they were all seated, she started her presentation. She decided to pass her dress code under silence, not mentioning it, not trying to risk an explanation.
“Hello all. I’m Karen. We spoke on the phone a couple of times. Pete and Phil were supposed to be here, but there’s been a traffic jam, and they’ll probably be here after the meeting only. So, if you don’t mind, I’ll go along with the presentation. If you have specific questions, I can reach them by phone.” She said.
Then she turned her back on them and started her presentation, showing graphs, making drawings, showing multimedia presentations. Everything appeared to go well. They had a few questions, but Karen was able to answer them very easily. After all, she had worked on this project for the past six months, and she knew it like the tips of her fingers.
Most of the time, Karen was facing them, but she had to turn her back on them quite often to write or to point at something. Every time the twisting of her hips send her small waves of pleasure, which she translated with wide smiles. She was glad she didn’t have to walk too much, because she would have exploded. But with every move, she could feel the tight jeans compressing her hips, making a crease at the bottom of her buns. The high heels forcing her to stand on her toes were amplifying all the sensations.
With each move of her arm, she could hear the leather creak, releasing the strong musk scent. She had to struggle a couple of times to reach something high on the projection screen, the jacket being too tight.
By the end of the presentation, she was tired, and very hot. She needed some relief. She concluded the presentation and inquired about any questions.
Mister Wo spoke lengthily with his translator, which turned to her.
“Mister Wo would like to know, since your… dress is not exactly conformist to the tradition, why did you dress like that?”
That was the question she hoped not to get. What should she answer? That it was an accident and she had no alternative? They could comprehend that she was unprepared with nothing else to change, which would lead a bad impression. That it was Saturday, and thus a casual dressing day? They would be dishonoured not be treated like the others because it was the week-end. She had to think fast.
“That’s because we’re a non-conformist company.” She said out of the blue.
“You mean that you dress like that often?” asked the translator.
“Well yes. When you feel good about how you look outside, you feel good inside.” She said, quickly thinking that it was the stupidest reason in the world.
Mister Wo chatted with the rest of the group. There was a lot of head nodding while browsing her presentation papers, and a lot of quick look at Karen jeans where the eyes were staying at waist level. She decided to play it, and she paced slowly a few times. She had to close her eyes to repress a wave of pleasure. The translator spoke again.
“Are all the women that work here dress like that?”
That was getting very strange. If someone is disgusted by something, they usually want to look the other way, but they were coming back again and again about her dress code. Were they liking it? Should she play safe or bold? She trusted her guts, her feelings. And her feelings were that they liked it.
“Yes, we do sir. All the woman that works here dress similar to this.” She said, emphasizing the similar, trying to work herself an escape route.
There was more discussion amidst the group of investors then they got up. They all went to Karen and gave a somewhat warm handshake. Mister Wo appeared happy. The last one to shake her hand was the translator.
“Mister Wo was very impressed by your presentation, but especially by the fact that you are a non-conformist company. He likes that. We have another meeting tomorrow with another supplier. They will make their decision Monday morning. Thank you very much, Karen.” He said, shaking her hand. Then, lowering his voice he asked “Can you tell me where clothes like these could be found?”
Karen startled. She was not expecting this at all. She had to think fast. She was not buying stuff like that herself. She gave the name of a few jeans boutiques and shoe stores she knew carried high heels. Then they left.
Karen walked back to the staff room and collapsed on a chair, more or less leaning on it, the jeans being too tight to sit straight. She gently rubbed her finger on her crotch, and softly moaned, closing her eyes.
She heard noises. It was Pete and Phil coming in.
“Karen? Karen are you still he… Gee, I hope you didn’t receive the investors dressed like that.” Said Phil, looking at her wide eyed, evidently not approving.
“That’s a long story.” She said as she explained what happened. Pete didn’t say a word. He was simply looking at her. Karen could swear she saw him drool.
“That’s unacceptable, Karen.” Said Phil, very harshly. “With a stunt like that, we’re sure to lose the contract. You don’t belong here Karen. You’re out.” He said.
“No but. Pete?” he said, turning to the President, awaiting his approval about firing her.
“Well, I would admit that it’s not the proper way to meet a customer, but giving the situation, she made the best she could.” Said Pete, still looking at Karen’s tight butt, evidently taking pleasure at it.
“Come on Pete. Forget your tight jeans fetish for a minute. We’re talking about 25 millions here!”
“We’ll see the outcome.” Said Pete, “Then I’ll advise.”
“Not good, Pete. You’re getting all mushy again. Karen, go home, and don’t show your face here before we call you.”
In tears, Karen grabbed her wet suit and went on, clicking her heels on the tiled floor, wiggling her butt, sobbing.
She drove home. Driving her sporty manual transmission car proved challenging and quite stimulating. She lay on the bed. Unconsciously, her hand was drawn to her crotch, and she started to play with her fingers. Quickly the pleasure grew back, and she exploded, finally releasing the pleasure that has been building for hours. She fell asleep.
Sunday was uneventful. She spent the day in her apartment, looking for a new job, but she was quick to put back the tight jeans and high heels. She was even bold enough to go for a walk in the park. She made many head turns. She looked stunning, and she felt great.
Monday morning. She stayed in bed. No rush, since she was out of work. By 8:30, the phone rang. It was Pete.
“Hi Karen. What are you doing at home?”
“Phil fired me, remember?”
“Ah, forget that. We just had a call from Mr. Wo. I don’t know what you did, but he seemed very impressed by you. Not only did he give us the 25 millions contract but he wants to get an option on another contract, of 30 millions. He said something about a non-conformist company. Any clue of what that means?”
“Yeah,” she said, “I told him we were a non-conformist company.” She said, giggling.
“Well, that impressed him, since he wants to do business only with you.”
“I’m flattered.” She answered, joyous.
“He said that he’ll be here by 13:00, and that he wants to see our non-conformist team at work. Any idea of what we should do to be non-conformist?”
“Well, I guess you’ll have to provide every woman in the office extra-tight jeans and high heels before he comes in…”
“Better come to the office to explain that to me.” He said, puzzled, although Karen sensed some excitement in his voice.
She rushed to the office, wearing the same heels and jeans as Saturday. She had replaced the turtleneck shirt with a dark blue halter top, under the tight leather jacket.
As she was explaining everything in detail to Pete, Phil entered the office, and startled when he saw Karen still wearing the tight jeans.
“What is she doing here? And still dressed like a hooker? I said we don’t need you here…”
“Shut up Phil” said Pete, coldly. “I think you’re not … non-conformist enough for our firm.” He said. “Pack everything and leave before lunch, please.”
Karen repressed a laugh and Phil was stunned.
“You’re gonna go bankrupt within a month.” He said. “Good for you, that’s all you deserved.” He said, leaving the office, slamming the door.
“He doesn’t know?” asked Karen.
“No one in the office knows yet. You’re the one that got the deal, you’re the one who’s going to make the announcement, and also explain our… non-conformist attitude.”
A general meeting was called. Of course, all 8 men were in ties, and all 32 women in classic business suits. Karen explained what happened at the meeting, how it ended-up and what was expected for the afternoon.
“I say again.” She continued. “I told them we were all somewhat dressed like that. I would suggest no baggy jeans. For the rest, I leave it to you; stretch, non-stretch, snug, tight, your choice. Same with the high heels, but please no flat shoes. Don’t try to be all look-alikes, after all, we are non-conformists.” She said with a wink. “And if you feel stupid to do it, just tell yourself you’re doing it for 55 millions.”
“Needless to say,” Added Pete “that all this is on company expenses.”
By lunch, all the women were there, wearing tight jeans. Much to Karen’s pleasure, most of the girls have gone for non-stretch tight jeans, and those who choose stretched ones, went for very, very tight ones. Nobody seemed reluctant to do it. The couple of men in the office were wide eyes, not knowing where to look.
The elevator door opened, and Karen almost choked. Mister Wo was there with his sons, and three gorgeous women, wearing extremely tight leather jackets and even tighter jeans, perched on high heels. They were all smiling. Only after she recognized his wife, wearing stretch very tight jeans, and the twins, wearing identical non-stretch jeans, so tight Karen was sure the zipper would give away before the end of the day.
Pete greeted them and handed them to Karen, who was welcoming them all smiling. She had them tour the office. They noticed all the tight jeans wearing women, and seemed quite impressed. The translator asked a few questions, mainly if it was true that they were a nonconformist company, and they all answered yes, and that they liked it, and they loved wearing this kind of clothing.
That satisfied Mr. Wo at the highest level. He gave them both contracts. Karen was in heaven and Pete almost fainted.
One week later, a young woman presented herself at the receptionist’s desk. She was wearing a dark blue tweed jacket and skirt, along with flat soles shoes.
“Is this the right company? I mean, I wasn’t expecting to see people wearing jeans in an office like that.” She said.
“We’re a non-conformist company.” Said the receptionist, all smiling. “Let me guide you to the International Sales Manager office.” She said.
She took the lead, wiggling her tightly encased butt on her skyscraper heels, enjoying every minute of it. She stopped in front of an office, where a woman, wearing tight dark blue leather jeans and jackets, walking of six inches heels black platform shoes, welcomed her.
“Hi, I’m Karen. I believe you’re here for the job of sales representative?”
© Pete / monsterp63, May 20, 2005
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