Jenny's Legal Adventure

Jenny slipped out of her still damp clothes, and held the dress up. It was a brief nurse uniform, and looked tailored to fit Meekashi. She unzipped the back, and stepped through the brief skirt, still balancing on the high heels. She had to cross her knees, and strain to force the material up over her broad hips. She could see the side seams visibly stretching out. She snaked first her right arm, and then her left, into the arms of the uniform, and as she forced it up over her shoulders, she felt the bottom of the skirt rising up to the bottom of her ass! Meekashi grasped the zipper in back, and struggled to raise it. "Suck in your tummy!" she said in a strained voice, as she slowly worked it up her back, between her shoulder blades.

The front neckline plunged to the tip of her sternum, and her unbound breasts ballooned out exposing an embarrassing amount of cleavage. She made a futile effort to tug the material together, but as soon as she let go it gaped back open. Meekashi set a little white cap on her head, with a Red Cross on the front. There was a soft tap on the door. "Quick, put these on!" she said, handing her some white silk stockings. As Jenny bent over to remove her heels, she could feel the back of the uniform slide halfway up her bare ass! She was going to have to be very careful in this outfit! She slipped on the semi-opaque stockings. There were lacy stay-up bands at the top, which were exposed by the short uniform. Meekashi tossed a pair of white pumps at her feet, which she jammed into. The door was thrown open, and once again she was pulled through, yanking down on the back hem of the starchy fabric as they burst out into the room.

A small metal typing table, complete with typewriter, had been set up facing the podium, just to this side. A chair was pushed up underneath. "This is one of the uniforms that the doctor required his clerical assistant to wear. While an owner is free to choose a dress code for his business, he must be consistent. The doctor in question provided conventional dress for the women in direct contact with the public. Do a spin, Jenny." She closed her eyes as she rotated, aware of the soft chuckles and comments coming from the room, as they assessed all of her female charms bursting out of the scant uniform. "This uniform alone ended up costing him fifty thousand dollars! For him, unfortunately, it didn't end there. Jenny, please type a copy of the document I have placed on the desk."

"The doctor had provided this exact work station for his assistant to use, located in his private office," continued Jim's narrative. Jenny slid the chair out, and puzzled over the design of it. The "seat" was slanted sharply forward and down, with a contoured rest at the bottom angled up at ninety degrees. Meekashi directed her forward with a hand on the small of her back. She had to straddle the oddly shaped seat, legs apart. Meekashi pressed down on her shoulder, forcing her to squat onto the tilted seat. She slid downward till her belly came to rest against the inward curved front ledge. Her back was arched back, following the curve of the front of the chair, her pelvis tilted sharply backward, up into the air. Her knees were now almost touching the floor, and Meekashi cradled her right ankle, lifting it up and setting it into a padded rail, which ran parallel to the underside of the seat. She then pulled a wide strap across her upper calf, securing the leg firmly in place. She repeated the process with the other leg, and stepped back out of the way.

The room was buzzing with noise, and Jenny's face glowed with color, as she could feel the back hem of the scratchy fabric resting across the top of her bare, upturned ass! The front ledge of the seat was a shelf, which lifted and cradled her breasts. The front of the dress had gaped open with her arched back, and both breasts tumbled out of the restraint, into full view of the room! Futilely, she attempted to push them back into the uniform, but the laws of physics had conspired against any attempt at a cover-up!

"This chair cost the good doctor a one hundred thousand dollar add-on penalty in his judgement, but wait, there's more! Jenny, could you please begin typing the document for us?" Giving up her struggles, she leaned forward against the rest. As she flipped on the IBM, she cradled the sides of her breasts, at least providing some coverage from the room. She rolled the paper into position, and began typing a copy of the hand written letter resting beside the typewriter. Never a strong typist, she prided herself on her accuracy, sacrificing speed in the process.

To Be Continued...