Not mine, I told myself, they're Mar Mar Marcie's. My mind was strained. Not Marcie, Marc. His name was Marc, and my name was Len, and there was B...ett and Tim too. We were all employees here, but we were being changed. I suddenly realized I had to do something. I grabbed my purse, I mean handbag, and ran, I mean walked briskly, in my heeled shoes back to the office. "Len?" Mike's voice called from his office. I had just walked past his door, so I took a step back and looked in, . ..I used to enjoy the way in which a woman's blouse revealed her bra. Butnow as I realised that my bra was showing through my blouse I was notenjoying it so much. Every man who looked at me would see my brathrough it.Then there was my skirt to put on. I zipped it up the way I would havezipped up a pair of trousers before twisting it round so the zip randown the middle of my arse.Then I selected a garter-belt and fishnet stockings and some stilettoes.I put my hat on and a jacket. Apart from. More

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