She kept replaying it in her mind. There was the pain, yes, but there was also that tingling senstation that flowed through her when he had touched her-- ran his finger down between her ass cheeks, along the wet lips of her sex. She hadn't wanted him to stop. She had wanted him to push into her, with more than just his fingers.

It wasn't until her mother called, asking her about her new job-- with the hidden subtext asking how long it would be until she would fail at that, too-- that Rakul accepted reality. There was no way she could quit, not and face the disappointment of her parents. She would just have to try not to make any more mistakes.
The next day, she was back on the train, wearing a different short skirt and tall heels, prepared to do her best for Mr. Taylor. She wore panties beneath the skirt, only because the skirt she chose was looser, and it would be just her luck to have a stray gust of wind show the world her assets if she didn't. Before she got on the elevator, she ducked into the bathroom, slid them off in a stall, and tucked them in her purse.
It was fortunate she did. After meeting Leticia's usually energetic greeting, she headed down to her desk. Taylor's office door was open, and he was already there. He looked up from his work when he saw her, and she tried her best to mimic Leticia's warm smile. He smiled back at her.
"Miss Rakul, could you come in here for a moment?"
Rakul's heart began to pound. The memory of his hand against her ass made her skin tingle. She stepped inside his office with trepidation.
"Yes, sir?"
"I have a list of tasks for you this morning. I sent it to you in an email, however, I'd like you to make the phone calls before anything else. I don't think I put it first on the list."
"Of course," she said uncertainly. "I'll get right on it."
"Thank you," he said, turning back to his work. Rakul breathed a sigh of relief. As she turned to go, his voice called out to her again. "One more thing."
She turned back to him, meeting the intensity of his stare. "Dress code check."
Rakul held out her hands, looking down at her outfit. She had a button-down shirt tucked into a loose, but short skirt, and the same heels as she had worn the day before.
"Unbutton that top button," Taylor advised. "Otherwise it makes you look too stiff."
Rakul nodded, and undid the top button of her blouse. "Otherwise, is it okay?"
"It is," Taylor said. "As long as you're following the additional rule I gave you yesterday."
Rakul flushed, thinking of the panties in her purse, and the second pair that might still be in his desk drawer.
"I... I am, sir."
"Show me."
With a quick glance out the still open door into the hall, she took a few steps towards his desk. Slowly, with trembling fingers, she lifted up the hem of her skirt, revealing the bare and moistening secret beneath. He smiled at her.
"Good. I like a girl who can follow instructions."
Rakul let the hem of her skirt drop.

"It will also serve as a good reminder to be careful with your work. I'd like you to finish most of the list before lunch, if you could."
"Yes. I'll do my best for you, Mr. Taylor."
--- --- ---
When she put her mind to it, Rakul was actually an efficient administrative assistant. She made phone calls, scheduled meetings, processed data, made copies, and typed up meeting notes dutifully. The rest of her first week passed without incident, Mr. Taylor only checking that she complied with dress code one additional time before Friday. She hadn't made any mistakes, and hadn't had need of any more punishment. On Friday afternoon, he called her into his office just before she was scheduled to leave for the day. She entered with less hesitation than she had previously.
"Yes, sir?"
Taylor smiled up at her. "You've done very good work this week, Miss Rakul," he said. "I knew I made a good decision in hiring you."
"Thank you, sir." Rakul tried not to smile too widely. It felt good to succeed after so much failure.
"Because all of the paperwork needs to get processed through the system, you likely won't get your first paycheck for another week and a half," he said. "But I've pulled some petty cash for you, and I'd like you to have it."
He picked up an envelope from his desk, and held it out to her. She approached, trying not to seem too eager.
"Are... are you sure?"
"Of course. Go out and have some fun. Go shopping. Whatever you want. You've earned it."
Her hand brushed his as she took the envelope from him. She flushed. He only smiled.

--- --- ---
That weekend, she did go shopping with one of her roommates, Amber. She needed more work skirts, outfits that looked as stylish and alluring as Leticia's always did. They hunted through the boutiques, looking for deals, wanting to make their student incomes go as far as possible. Rakul tugged out a tiny skirt, only enough to cover the barest bits of her body.
"This is cute," she said, holding it out to Amber, modeling it against herself.
"Sure, for the weekend," Amber said.
"I can wear it to work. Leticia has one just like it."
Amber raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were a secretary, not a stripper."
"Ha, ha," Rakul said, tucking the skirt in the crook of her arm. "It's a very cutting-edge business. We need to look hot for the clients. Makes a good first impression."
Amber rolled her eyes. "Whatever you say."
--- --- ---
With a new wardrobe that showed just a little more skin, Rakul was eager to return to work the next week. She found she was beginning to enjoy the stares she got on the train, the whistles from the construction site between the train platform and the office building, the silent attentions of the junior partners at the office, the intense gaze and smile of approval of her boss. Like Leticia told her, she looked hot. If you've got it, flaunt it.
There were important meetings scheduled for that week, meetings that Rakul herself had arranged the week previously, all with big-name, important clients. She made sure to greet each one warmly in the waiting room, lead them back to Mr. Taylor's office, knowing they were all looking at the outline of her ass and the bare backs of her thighs as she did so. She had just led one particularly hungry-looking businessman back to Mr. Taylor's office when Leticia called from the reception desk.
"Mr. Johnson's here for a ten-thirty appointment," she said, her voice a little rushed.
Rakul frowned. "But... but I just walked Mr. Taylor's ten-thirty into his office."
"Take a look at the schedule, hun. I think you double booked it."
With mounting horror, Rakul clicked through screens and brought up the schedule. Her eyes scanned the details, trying to find a way where it wasn't her fault. She had scheduled both of those meetings, made the calls, sent the verification emails. The skin on her ass started to tingle in memory of the last time she had messed up. In a hushed, panicked voice, she pleaded for Leticia's wisdom.
"What do I do?!"
"Better come explain the situation to Mr. Johnson as nice as you can and reschedule," Leticia said. "And then explain it even nicer to Mr. Taylor."
Sheepishly, Rakul crept out to the reception area, to meet a grumpy-looking middle aged man who seemed to suffer from both jet lag and indigestion. She tried to explain as best she could, and although he was calm, he clearly wasn't happy. She rescheduled, using Leticia's computer, apologizing profusely and triple-checking to make sure she didn't make the same mistake. She slunk back to her desk.

When Taylor exited, laughing with the client he did meet with, Rakul rose, ready to brave the punishment he would dole out on her after her explanation. She didn't get to say anything, though-- Taylor told her he would be going out to lunch with the client, leaving her to stew in misery until he returned.
When he did, his expression had changed completely. When she saw him coming down the hallway, she rose, ready to apologize. His piercing gaze kept the words from leaving her throat.
"Please follow me into my office, Miss Rakul." His tone was curt, uncompromising. Knees shaking, she did. He held the door for her, and shut it behind her, before crossing to stand before her. She couldn't bring herself to look at him.