All characters are 18+ if their age is not expressly stated.
______________________
The Braless Wonder
I rushed into the changing room after punching the clock. I'd just gotten off the bus, late yet again.
Fucking bus service... Same train... Every day, same train... I swear that Engineer hates me... He'll block the whole road off and go for coffee or something... If I get fired, I swear I'm going to egg his train.
I complained to myself.
I was struggling to catch my breath, huffing and puffing. I removed my windbreaker and hung it in my locker before retrieving my smock from its hook. I put my arm inside the sleeve, did a pirouette, and clanged the metal door shut. I was fumbling around for the other armhole before I realized that it was inside out.
Fucking shit! Gremlins... There's gotta be Gremlins that come out every night and mess with my shit, tie my stuff in knots, tangle everything up just to watch me squirm... steal my pens, squish my lunch!
It was at that moment that I realized that the chatter in the lunchroom next to me had stopped. An audience of warehousemen sat there, watching me wriggle around like Harry Houdini trying to get into my work gear.
My nipples stood out from the fabric of my white button-down blouse, and my pert breasts jiggled as I fumbled and slid my way into my work attire. I never liked to wear bras, and I was used to the odd looks I got. Bras are uncomfortable. I rarely wear them because they pinch and bind, and I spend half of my day pulling them down. Maybe I enjoyed the attention, but that's beside the point.
My tight blouse highlighted the fullness of my little breasts, and I could feel my nipples protruding through the thin, white cotton fabric. A chill raced down my spine, causing me to shiver, which in turn, made my unrestrained breasts wiggle.
I ignored the men sitting at the table, trying to appear confident despite my nerves. All eyes were on me, and I almost heard the collective gasp that escaped them as they huddled together like a pack of wolves, their eyes fixated.
"Look, look, look..." one of them whispered, his voice barely audible.
"I know, right? Great tits," another replied, his eyes wide with lust. "Someone needs to give the hiring manager a raise."
They were looking at me like I was a party queen, ready to give them a show. And I couldn't help but smile. I looked back at them, and they smiled in return.
"Oh, sweet lord. I have to work out the rest of the day with that image in my head, " he said, sounding desperate.
Another laughed.
"Now's your chance. Go get some," he challenged. "You've been talking about her all morning."
His friend shrugged.
I turned to face them, posing with a hand on my hip.
"Take a picture already!"
"I'm in love!" He pulled out his phone and took a picture. "For when I get home, Sweetheart."
I chuckled and shook my head as I gathered my hair up in a bunch and flipped it over the collar of my uniform. I pulled my smock around my chest, and the trance was broken.
"By the way, Vickie, Tom wants to see you in his office."
The message startled me, and I quickly glanced around for a moment before stepping out of the locker room and rushing down the hall.
When I reached his office door, it was slightly ajar. I knocked gently.
"Entre vous!" A voice called out from the other side.
"Bonjour, bonjour, bonjour..." I replied as I pushed it open slowly, afraid to disturb anything behind it, and found Tom seated behind his desk, his hands folded neatly on top of it as he leaned forward with a deep sigh.
"Comment Γ§e va Monsieur Tom,"
He didn't speak French. He'd throw out the occasional phrase, but he always fell back on English when I replied. I don't know if he thought of himself as charming or worldly, but it was always the same: bonjour and then on to new business.
When I entered the room, he grinned at me, immediately stood up, and shook my hand.
"So... Vickie, tell me, how did your first week go?" he asked, stroking my arm gently.
I nervously folded my arms in front of me.
"Good," I said softly.
"Well then, do you have any questions?" he asked.
"No," I lied, "but thank you."
"Anytime, sweetheart," he smiled.
The last person who called me 'sweetheart' in a professional capacity ended up shoving me against a wall and making a pass at me. It's not that I didn't like the man. But it made me uncomfortable having him talk to me that way.
He raised an eyebrow. "Is something wrong?"
"Uh... no."
"Are you sure?" he asked. His face softened slightly.
"Yeah," I lied again.
I looked around the office to see if anyone else was listening.
"Okay, that's great. I just need you to do some continued education in the training room. Come this way."
With those words, he walked me to a small room adjacent to his office. He opened the door, and we stepped inside. It was a simple, understated room: there was a couch, a few chairs, and a long table with half a dozen computer terminals on it.
"Have a seat."
I did as he instructed.
"Now, if you'd just take off your shirt."