I rolled my eyes, helped her up, and led her back to my room. I entered the closet and rummaged through the junk to find the key for the handcuffs; however, even after I searched through every box in the closet, I conveniently couldn't find it. I shit you not, it legitimately wasn't there. I turned to my boss with a rather helpless, awkward expression, not knowing what to do.

"You're not really going to tell me you just so happen to not have the key, right?"

"If I said that was the case, would I be fired?"

"Hmmm. Maybe? Unless…"

"Unless what?"

"Help me get changed and take me down to a locksmith."

"Wait. What? Can't you change yourself even if you're handcuffed?"

"Of course not. With my hands cuffed behind my back, that's not going to happen. Also, how do you expect me to put on the top properly by myself like this? I can't get both hands through the sleeves either. Unless you have a crop top or something similar where you could cut the straps for me and sew it back on."

"Isn't this asking a bit too much for me to keep my job?"

"Isn't it all your fault for not having the key to begin with?"

"Okay... I get it. I just need to help you get changed, right?" Just what the hell is wrong with me? Why am I going along with this ridiculous scenario?

I went to the bathroom to collect her clothes only for her to point out, "Those clothes are drenched in sweat, they stink from running around everywhere yesterday. I also can't put them on properly due to the sleeves as I mentioned before. Don't you have something you could let me borrow? Surely you're a pervert who kept some clothes as a memento from one of your previous exes, right? Just loan me something, I'll return it later."

"Do you really think I'd keep one of my ex's clothes?"

"Yeah, I do. You kept handcuffs, so why not clothes?"

She was right. When I was searching for the key, I did find some among the boxes filled with junk from my old place. I never really threw away any of their stuff. I always dumped their stuff into storage and forgot about it.

I grabbed the first set of clothes I found and exited the closet. If I recalled correctly, these belonged to my second ex. A blue and white spaghetti strap crop top with a purple, white polka dot bow on the front. The second was… skin tight spatz?! I immediately broke out into sweat.

I turned around quickly to try and hide what I'd picked out. I was intent on finding something else, but she called out to stop me. "What are you doing? If you've already picked something out, bring it over. I'm quite curious as to what my employee's first choice in clothing he most wants to see me wearing. I'm sure it will give me a good idea of just how wild your delusions towards your boss are."

"Sorry, I picked up the wrong piece. I'm just going to get the right one now." She didn't let me back into the closet. She stood in front of it and blocked it off with her body while she attempted to peek at the clothes behind my back.

Reluctantly, I eventually took them out and showed them to her with my head lowered in shame.

"Look… it's these, okay? You happy now? So let me just get something else in place of the spats."

"Spats, huh? I've haven't really worn any recently. Those will do though, help me put them on."

"No way. Just let me get something else."

"Mr. Genovese, I think you're mistaken here. The lady is the one who chooses what she wants to wear at the end of the day. If I say I choose to wear that, then you have no say in the matter. Regardless of what you bring out; unless you want to force me into them against my will, I can simply decline to wear everything after this until you are left with no other choice."

Of course, I was speechless. She was right. I sure as hell didn't have to gonads to f.o.r.c.i.b.l.y make her wear it if she put up a resistance. I'd immediately be put on a registered s.e.x offenders list if I tried that.

"Now, help me put them on."

"I'd really rather not."

"Then you prefer to lose your job and never be able to find another?"

"I… don't."

"Then, get to it."

"This is surely against the law."

"Would you like to call the police and see whose side they take when they find a handcuffed n.a.k.e.d woman crying in your room?"

"I'd… rather not have to find out."

"Then…"

She raised her right foot slightly off the ground dangling it in my direction with a face that said 'go on.'

With no other choice, I bent down on one knee and carefully slid her leg through one side. She lowered her right foot and raised the other, allowing me to slide it through the other opening.

When both her feet were on the ground, I threw caution to the wind and decided to get it over with as quickly as possible. At least that was my intention, but it was a lot more difficult than I expected with the way it stuck tightly to her skin. Because of how hard it was, I inadvertently felt up her legs and h.i.p.s quite a bit through the entire process. Sliding it beneath the towel was definitely the part where I struggled the most.

"I didn't expect Mr. Genovese to be so lecherous. I can even feel your fiery, passionate gaze as it burns holes through my legs."

"There's no such thing. Can you please refrain from smearing dirt on my good name?"

"You should be more honest with yourself. Seeing your boss in such a defenseless state, where she can't even change by herself, don't act like you feel nothing when I can see it written all over your face."

"That is blatant slander, I can sue you."

"I'd really like to see how the case plays out as you struggle and squirm when they ask you to recount the scenario."

She abruptly turned her back to me. To my shock, she allowed the towel to slip off her body and fall to the ground.

In my state of stupor, she demanded, "hurry up and put the top on. Start from the bottom again, then cut the straps afterward and reattach it."

I felt somewhat lightheaded with the blood that rushed to my head, a result of the overly stimulating sight, but I still followed her instruction. We repeated the grueling process for the second time, I slid the crop top around her body until it was positioned properly beneath her arms. The most difficult part, this time, was definitely her c.h.e.s.t. One word. Large. A lot larger than I expected out of a businesswoman like her. Normally they were hidden well beneath her business attire, so it was normally difficult to tell, but she was definitely blessed with how well endowed she was.

"Are you thinking anything inappropriate right now, Mr. Genovese?"

"Yeah, I am actually. Your figure is pretty similar to someone I know."

"Oh? Who would that be?"

"Never mind. Forget I said anything."

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