First, she needs to get out of those filthy clothes.

Still without turning around, Doe continues, "We need you take down a memo for a new company directive." You can't help but smile trying to guess at the game Doe is playing.

"I've been noticing a recent lack of professionalism in the dress around the office. Women wearing sheer blouses so you can see their bras, slit skirts, and slutty makeup. From now on, I want everyone professionally made up in this office!"

Clarice was too busy inspecting herself self-consciously. For a nice girl like her, she felt embarrassed dressing as she did to keep up with the other girls in the office. But truth be told, she was actually among the most demurely dressed. Her skirt was slit only to mid-thigh. Her blouse was powder-blue blouse, so you could barely make out the lacy cup of her bra. And the demi-bra still shielded her nipples well from prying eyes. In fact, she is dressed much more conservatively that Doe, even if you don't count the cum-stains.

As Clarice looked down at herself in increasing panic, Doe turns around. "Are you taking this down?" Doe barks at her, a phony hint of impatience in her voice.

"Yes Doe, sorry, I was just..." Clarice looks up at Doe’s face and finally realizes something is up. "Doe? What happened to you?"

Doe breaks into a smile. "Yes, what did happen to me? A situation -- came up. And as per the new directive, I need you to help me meet the new dress code. Come, undress me."

Clarice is so shocked by this turn of events she instinctually does what she does best: she obeys. She drops the notepad she was writing on and undoes each button on Doe's blouse, starting from the bottom. As she progresses upwards, the stains get thicker, white clumps coagulating on the surface. She undoes the last button, just below the valley of Doe's slimy cleavage. Seeing the milky trails decorating her breasts, Clarice can no longer deny what these stains are.

"Um, Doe, is this... what I think it is?" She casts an apprehensive look over to you. You just shrug innocently.

"What do you think it is, dear?" Doe responds playfully as she pulls off her blouse. “Now unzip my skirt.”

Glancing furtively around, Clarice whispers, “It looks like sperm!” Blushing, she kneels down and unzips Doe’s skirt and lets it fall to the floor. Doe takes a step forward to get out of it, now dressed only in her underwear and high heels. Meanwhile, Clarice remains kneeling on the ground, her knees primly pressed together. Her nose is now inches away from Doe’s pussy, separated only by the thin veil of her panties. The pungent aroma of sex keeps Clarice mesmerized. Her gaze remains transfixed on Doe’s well-trimmed pussy lips bulging through the sheer material.

Doe looks down at Clarice imperiously. “Thank you very much, Clarice. Now, I need you to do remove your clothing. Look at yourself, putting yourself on display like that! Quite inappropriate for the workplace.”