I arrived home and rushed through the front door straight up the stairs to my room. I undid the tied belt fastening the raincoat in front of the mirror. I revealed sandwich girl and her irregular bulges. I smelled of egg, tuna, chicken tikka and yet I found myself considering how other foodstuffs may feel. Hearing my Mum's voice brought me back to reality and I stripped and soaked in the bath.
For the following two weeks I kept my head down and just worked. My time was running out I needed to prove myself. Mary-Jane called me to her desk and told me I had done well.
"When you focus you are efficient and reliable. I have a quandary because when you get bored you are a complete liability. Mary-Jane Hunter explained. "I have decided to continue your trial but as your internship is ending you will be paid a secretaries wage, for 3 months and then we will see."
That evening I rushed home to tell my mother, my good news and I could see the pride on her face. Amidst one of life triumph's my next week was a blast, fuelled by adrenalin. What goes up tends to come down and gravity came into play. Mary-Jane announced a Japanese business trip but I was to stay here, and deal with lose ends. I had a list of jobs but otherwise I would be left to my own devices. Unfortunately, impulse was one of those devices.
I finished the chores left for me, within the first two days. On the third day, some of my bosses clothes were returned from the dry cleaners and I turned they key in the lock of her closet. I stepped through the door into an Aladdin's Cave. This was more than a closet it was a dressing room with a dressing table in the centre. Each wall adorned with wardrobes and chests of drawers interspersed with full length mirrors. There was a door on each side one led to a treasure trove. One room contained an impressive hoard of shoes, proving Mary-Jane Hunter really was well heeled. The other room filled with her jewellery and impressive collection of lingerie.
Overawed by this massive and beautiful adult dressing up box I became more magpie, and coveted all the shiny pretty things. Dresses in every style and material, shoes from sandals to boots in every colour, luxurious lingerie and the perfect accessories. It wasn't me it was the voice in my head that asked "What harm could it do to try on a pair of shoes?"
"What harm?" echoed through my head and "she will never know," added it's refrain. "They are just the right size," joined in.
I looked around at the shoes and they spoke to me all asking, "Pick me, pick me," forming a chorus of demand. I could stand it no longer. I tried on a pair of strappy high heel sandals just to quell the crescendo." They fitted perfectly.
I tried on several pairs of shoes and boots, strutting around the room like a model but the shoes needed the right outfit. I was letting them down by isolating them and separating them from the multitude of opportunities co-ordinate. I surveyed the dresses and a sparkly purple ballgown caught my eye and held it hostage to be released when I tried it on. Stripped to my underwear. I down at my body and sighed as such a magnificent dress didn't deserve my everyday reliable but uncoordinated bra and panties. Naked now I I stroked and caressed Mary-Jane's underwear settling for a pastel floral silk French Knickers and cami top. So luxurious was its touch on my skin that I felt like a goddess. I put on the dress and slipped my feet into a pair of sparkly heels My hips swayed as I sashayed around the room a Princess at a ball I tried on outfit after outfit as happy as a pig in shi--, well you know what I mean.
I was wearing a leather kneelength dress teamed with black calf length heeled boots. I felt wicked. I also felt hungry so I got my part eaten burger from earlier. Cold and unappetising I remember something . There were condiments in the bathroom. A lot of them. It didn't really make sense but who cares I wanted ketchup. I went into the bathroom with my burger and added tomato ketchup. I took one bite then a second and a third. I looked down to see a splodge of ketchup on the dress. I curbed my first thought to wipe it off and let it dribble down the dress. I realised that I could get the dress dry cleaned and relaxed. I picked up the ketchup and squirted it over my head. I emptied the bottle over the top of my head . It oozed through my hair. I stood still as it seeped over me, and I felt it drip onto my face and down my neck. My matted hair dripped red all down the dress. I picked up the mayonnaise and repeated the process. I poured it over my hair already slippery from the ketchup it ran of quicker, splattering its gloopy whiteness randomly over the dress. I poured barbecue sauce inside the dress it wetness sliding over my body and inside my knickers, and out over my thighs. I felt it's trails run down my legs.I stood there excited but I want more I grab the jar of tomato chutney and empty it over my cleavage and glorified in my sticky messy breasts. I lifted up the hem of the dress and filled the French knickers with salad cream and pulled them up tight against my crotch. The salad cream squeezed out coating my legs as I started to touch myself With one hand I held the dress up and with the other I kept rubbing until my toes curled and weak at the knees I came covered in sauces.
A few moments later I stood looking in the mirror and I was a complete mess but it looked kind of good. I showered fully clothed then with the dress off and finally naked. I cleaned the bathroom and bagged the clothes for the dry cleaners Having something to do helped me focus. I cleaned up so there was no trace. I put everything back as it should be and there was nothing to give any indication of my messy activities.
Three days later my boss Mary-Jane was back. We had a busy morning but in the afternoon, she called me to join her for a coffee.
"I want to thank you for holding the fort and I have a present for you. I have an extensive wardrobe and I would like to give you an outfit I think should suit you," she said holding out a package.
"Thank you," I said ripping open the package. I tore the paper off and sat there in a state of shock. The package had a leather skirt, a white satin blouse, white bra and panties and blue patent court shoes.
"What do you think, I believe we have similar tastes and these clothes go well together?" Mary-Jane asked.
I could not help but agree and just nodded. I had worn that exact combination during my dressing up session.
"I want to say how they look on you, please put them on." Mary-Jane suggested. I changed in her dressing room and walked out thinking I had to be calm sometimes coincidences happen.
"Wow you look a million dollars, how do you feel?" Mary-Jane enquired. "Come and help me with something." She led me into the bathroom and gestured for me to sit on a sturdy wooden chair,
"Just sit still ," she said quietly wrapping a heavy steel chain around my neck the links padlocked. The chain was wound around my and the chair fastening my elbows and wrists to the armrests. My knees were secured parted, to the top of the front chair legs and my ankles further down. I tested the heavy chains to no avail.
"Watch the laptop," Mary-Jane told me and I looked at the screen placed on a chair and saw myself. I barely noticed the tin of treacle that was slowly starting to pour out of the tin onto my hair. As I registered its weight on my head and I now knew why there were condiments in the bathroom
I watched the video of me trying on my bosses clothes as the treacle spread over my head through my hair. Its viscosity making it seep over me in slow motion.
"Well little Missie Mischief looks like you've got yourself in another sticky situation," she said squeezing a whole bottle of maple syrup covering my whole head clinging to my face. I could smell its sticky sweetness as it flowed over my nose. She poured further bottles of maple syrup on me so it ran over my breast trickling down my cleavage. Syrup poured over my shoulders, down my arms and over my hands. She filled my blouse inside and covered it outside.
She reached over my shoulders and massaged my sticky breasts,
"Thanks for the mammaries," she said as syrup pooled in the lap of my skirt.
"Woarrgh, I yelled as the chair was tipped back and I ended up on my back.
"Sorry I meant to warn you." she said, moving round taking off my shoes and pouring honey over my nylon clad feet. She massed it to my feet and legs up to my knees. . Her hands felt so good and so did her mouth as sucked the honey back though my stockings. She filled the shoes with honey and put them back on my feet . One part of me had not yet got sticky was the inside of my skirt its impenetrable leather and tight waistband kept the stickiness out. Now on my back it would keep it I in. She poured honey, treacle, maple syrup into my skirt filling it up surrounding my thighs and clinging to my skin. My panties soaked through with more sweetness than I ever saw in my life. I could hear myself moan on the laptop as she played my masturbation and rubbed herself.
"Please," I said unable to touch myself.
"Okay," she agreed. She knelt down thighs astride my face. She poured honey into her knicker which overflowed over my face as she pressed her pussy down. I licked her sweetness and her fingers found my clit.
"Oh god," I moaned as fingers pleasured me and I returned her attentions with my lip and teeth as well as my tongue. I was so horny I came like a train as my boss shuddered with pleasure above my face. Life had never been sweeter.